Escaping Reality

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Or not. What was that?”

  “The car stops at floor one hundred and shifts to the right slightly.”

  “I don’t think I want to know why.”

  “It’s part of the sway built into the top of the tower.” The elevator

  stops. “And just that quick, we’re here.” The doors slide open and I’m more

  than a little glad to get the heck off the car after that jump, planned or not.

  We exit into a hallway and Liam indicates another elevator. “The last

  two floors require another ride up, but I want to show you something first.”

  “Aren’t we going to be late to dinner?”

  “I told you 7:00 and them 7:30.”

  We travel a narrow hallway with glass windows from floor to ceiling

  and I feel a bit dizzy and unsteady. Liam opens a huge wooden door and

  motions me inside. I step into an oval-shaped room that is nothing but

  windows and random pairs of leather chairs split by small tables.

  Liam takes my hand and I always have this sense he is worried I am

  about to run away.

  But I’m not running from him. It’s time he knows I’m running to him.

  He leads me to the far side of the room and it is like I am standing on a

  cloud staring down at buildings twinkling like stars.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “So are you,” he murmurs, his body framing mine from behind.

  “You know,” I say, turning in his arms, “Mike might have some merit

  with the whole

  ‘tallest building’ idea. He knows you won’t make it just another tall

  building.”

  “He knows he wants the tallest building. Period. The end.”

  He turns me and sets me down in a chair, going down on a knee in

  front of me and sliding my skirt up my thighs. I look over my shoulder. “No

  one is going to catch us,” he assures me. “I locked the door.”

  He cups my sex and suddenly jerks on my panties, ripping them

  away. I gasp. “Liam!”

  He laughs and shoves them in his pant pocket. “Now I have

  something to think about while ol’ Mike runs his mouth.” His hands stroke

  back up my thighs. “It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you.”

  My cheeks heat at his boldness, but I agree. “Yes.”

  “Did you take a pregnancy test?”

  I’m taken aback by the unexpected question. “I told them I might be

  at the hospital.”

  His lips curve. “I did, too.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Did they test you?”

  “Yes. But they said it was too soon to be accurate.”

  “When can you tell?”

  “I think another week.”

  “Call the doctor and ask.”

  I nod. “I will.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to give us both something else to think about over

  dinner.” He slips two

  fingers into the V of my body.

  “Liam,” I gasp. “Not here.”

  “Yes. Here.” And before I can object again, his head is between my

  thighs and his tongue laps at my clit. I mean to object. Really I do, but his

  fingers slide inside me and he is licking me in that way he does that drives

  me insane.

  I grab the arms of the chair and Liam pushes the skirt of my dress

  higher, lifting one of my legs to his shoulder. For a moment, I drink in the

  image of me sitting in the chair with this gorgeous man between my legs

  and me spread wide for him, and it is erotic and exciting, like everything

  with Liam. Pleasure spikes, already building in some deep spot in my sex

  and I swear I just keep on being the easiest orgasms this man has ever

  given anyone. He touches me and I shudder. He licks and I moan. And that

  is just what happens. He licks me again, I moan, and then my sex clenches

  around his fingers. I shatter like glass thrown to the ground, instantly, and

  in tiny little pieces, pleasure splintering through every nerve ending in my

  body, until I am limp in the chair.

  I blink the image of my leg over his shoulder into view and blush

  furiously. I try to pull it down and he leans in and licks me one last time. I

  shudder with the impact and he chuckles, then settles my leg on the

  ground. I quickly try to shimmy my skirt down my legs, and can’t get it.

  Liam pushes to his feet and pulls me with him, caressing my dress

  back into place.

  “I can’t believe we just did that here.”

  He leans in and kisses me, pressing his tongue into my mouth, before

  he whispers, “And now we can both have a taste of what the rest of the

  night will hold. Mike be damned.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The restaurant is a circle that rotates and has a bar in the center with

  spectacular views of the city. Liam and I join our group of what will be six,

  including us, and Mike, Mr. A-Hole himself, greets me with a handshake.

  Mike is as Liam has described: rather short for a man, no taller than my five

  feet, four inches, forty-something, and otherwise quite decent looking. I say

  a quick hello to the others attending the dinner and we all are seated. Mike

  to my left. Liam to my right. Derek on the opposite side of Mike, and two

  other investors on the far side of the table.

  The first order of business is wine, which I refuse for fear I might be

  pregnant. “Diet whatever you have,” I say, and Liam squeezes my leg,

  pulling my gaze to his, and there is awareness and approval there. And

  heat. Lots of heat. I think the idea of me being pregnant actually turns him

  on. But I think all men get a macho rise out of the idea of creating a baby on

  some level. That doesn’t mean they’re happy when the round belly and

  dirty diapers come around.

  “So tell me about yourself, Amy,” Mike encourages.

  “I’m a boring secretary,” I reply, automatically slipping into deflection

  mode. That’s who I am, deflection girl, and I am so ready to change that.

  “I’d much rather hear about you,” I continue. “Were you an investor in this

  spectacular building Liam designed?”

  Derek laughs, drawing my gaze. “Glad you’re along for dinner, Amy.”

  He nods to Liam.

  “Good call.”

  Liam squeezes my leg. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “She certainly knows how to start things out with a bang,” Mike

  concedes, “but she makes my point. This building is spectacular. Let’s do it

  again a little bigger.”

  “But you’re creating a place that is more than a workspace this time,”

  I argue. “You’re creating a small city, from what I understand.”

  “This building is more than a workspace.”

  “A pyramid—”

  “Is Las Vegas fodder for tourists,” Mike finishes for me.

  “Tell that to the Egyptians who spent years creating just one of the

  structures. Tell that to the many scientists and experts who spend year

  after year trying to figure out how it was even possible for an ancient

  society to build the structures. And do you really think Liam would build

  something that would be Vegas-like unless he was creating it for Vegas?”

  Mike gives me a hard look, glances at Liam, and then back at me.

  “Okay Amy,” he conceeds witha smile, “you have a point. Considering the />
  masterpiece of a building we are sitting inside at present, I cannot say I

  think Liam would do anything that wasn’t spectacular.”

  I grin my approval and watress appears. Once she takes our orders,

  the conversation shifts to the stock market for what seems like forever.

  Even if I understood any of it, Liam’s hand stroking my leg isn’t allowing my

  brain to work, and no matter how many times I clamp down on his fingers,

  he sets them in motion again, each time tugging my dress a little higher up

  my thigh.

  Dessert time finds Derek and Liam in deep conversation with the

  opposite side of the table, and Mike and I restart our conversation about

  buildings. Mike points out the many amazing buildings around the world

  that are record-breaking heights, or were, when first built. I quickly remind

  him that he is forgetting the many amazing structures that get attention for

  uniqueness, rather than height.

  When Mike is without any true knowledge of the miracle of

  pyramids, I glance at Liam and Derek, confirming they are still distracted,

  before I dare to dare to be a tad more liberal about my knowledge of the

  subject. .

  “I wonder,” I say, after we’ve talked a good hour in which Mike

  appears genuinely enthralled by the mysteries and the creation of the

  pyramids, “if you could incorporate a museum into the project your

  building and get non-profit funding to offset the expense.”

  I lean back in my seat and suddenly realize that Derek and Liam are

  gone and I didn’t even know they left. “If you’re just a secretary,” Mike

  announces, “you’re a wasted commodity.”

  “I, ah, thank you.” I stare at the empty seats, feeling a frisson of

  unease. “Excuse me if you will, Mike. I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.” I

  push to my feet and waste no time rushing away, scanning for Liam and

  Derek, and decide I’ll take a trip to the bathroom and use the privacy to call

  Liam.

  I’m about to head into the bathroom when I hear Liam’s voice

  coming from a balcony just opposite where I’m standing. I move in that

  direction and stop dead when I hear, “Did you get the data off her

  computer?”

  “All of it,” Derek says. “Including the camera.”

  “So the camera feed is live?”

  “Hot as a day in Texas. Are you sure you have her under control?”

  “I can handle Amy. You just get me what I need.”

  The word “Texas” rolls around in my head several times and hits me

  like a hard punch in the gut. I bolt, my heart is in my throat, adrenaline

  surging through me to the point where I’m shaking. I arrive at the elevator

  and punch the button a good ten times until it opens, and I all but lunge

  inside the car. I hold my breath, waiting for the doors to close, certain I will

  be discovered.

  When finally the car is moving, I inhale deeply, willing my pulse to

  slow so I can think. This doesn’t mean Liam is the bad guy. It doesn’t.

  Maybe he dug into my past. Maybe he’s trying to help me. But why would

  he film me? Why? Why? Why? I was falling in love with him. I am in love

  with him. The idea that he and I were nothing but a facade cuts me deeply.

  I want to believe in him and us, but I do not dare risk trusting him. I have to

  survive first, and I need a plan.

  Think, Amy. Think. You have to get out of here. Leave the state. Leave

  tonight. The elevator opens on the bottom floor and I know there are

  cameras everywhere, easily tracking my departure. I run through the empty

  lobby and ignore the security guard behind the desk, exiting the building

  and immediately cutting to my right. I pause momentarily to remove my

  shoes before running several blocks until I spot a cab and hail it.

  I climb inside. “Where to, lady?”

  Where to? Where to? My cell phone rings and I am smart enough to

  know that not only can the GPS chip be used to follow me, Liam has the

  money to make it happen. With my heart in my throat, I roll down the

  window and toss the phone outside, my thoughts bouncing all over the

  place with my emotions. I need a fake ID I can’t get until tomorrow. And I

  need to be close to Evernight so I can try to reach my handler one last time.

  I lean forward to talk to the driver. “There’s a hotel called Cherry

  Creek Inn, in Cherry Creek North. Take me there.” I hesitate, then add, “But

  stop by a twenty-four-hour Walmart first.” I need supplies and a cash

  machine.

  Forty-five minutes later, I step into the hotel room I’ve paid for in

  cash with Liam’s words playing in my head. Run to me, Amy, not from me.

  Angrily, I swipe at the tears that slip down my cheeks. I’m not going to cry

  over him. I’m not. I’m not going to cry at all.

  I dump the contents of my shopping bag on the bed. A cheap pair of

  tennis shoes, a couple of tank tops and pairs of shorts, a few toiletries. I

  remove the wad of cash from my purse that I pulled from Liam’s credit card

  and toss it down as well. Tomorrow I’ll clean out my New York accounts,

  get a fake ID to travel with so that Amy Bensen will never be traceable as

  leaving town, and then I’m gone.

  “I’m not running at all, Liam,” I whisper. I’m going back to Texas.

  The End....

  Look for the exciting conclusion of The Secret Life of Amy Bensen in

  Infinite Possibilities coming very soon!