by J. Kenner
I should want that. I should want to see my own apartment again. Work my old job. Hang out with Ella.
I should want to be able to move through the world without looking over my shoulder.
And I do. I want it painfully. Desperately.
But I also want Liam.
I’m certain he has no idea of this new direction in my thoughts, and I feel a little guilty about that. But I’m keeping my secret for now.
As far as Liam knows, nothing has changed. I’ve told him that I don’t get involved, and I told him my reasons. If he was paying attention, he knows that I’ve never wanted to pull someone else into a life with a woman wearing a target on her back.
But Liam is the one working to erase that target. And once he does…
Well, once that target is gone, I guess he can do the math. If he wants to.
And that’s the thing that’s gnawing at my gut—I don’t think he’ll want to. He’s told me he doesn’t do relationships, either, and if what Eliza’s told me is true, his words have been borne out in practice. He hasn’t been in a relationship since before he and Quince became friends, and from what I can tell, they were both neck deep in Deliverance a long time ago.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Liam says as he squeezes his Range Rover into his garage.
“Tired,” I say, which isn’t actually a lie. “I moved about eight billion boxes from the basement storage area up to Conference Room A so I can start scanning them into the system.”
“Eight billion?”
“Slight exaggeration,” I say. “And I might have had help. But it was still tiring. First physically, then mentally. Scanning is not the most exhilarating task in the world. But it does give you time to think.”
“Oh?” He kills the engine and looks at me. “What were you thinking about?”
“You,” I say truthfully.
“What a coincidence. I spent a lot of time thinking about you today, too.”
“I should hope so, considering my ass is your primary investigation at the moment.” I frown. “That came out wrong.”
“I think it came out exactly right. I definitely need to investigate your ass more thoroughly.”
Heat and desire lace his voice, firing my senses and making my skin tingle with a now-familiar need. A craving for him. For this man. For his touch. His scent. His lips. Over the last few nights, I’ve explored every delicious inch of him, and all I have to do is close my eyes to remember the way he feels inside me.
The memory is sweet, but I’d much rather have the reality, and as soon as we’re inside the house, I push him against the wall and close my mouth over his.
“No dinner?” he murmurs when we come up for air.
“Your choice,” I answer, then run the tip of my tongue along the curve of his ear. “Leftover meatloaf. Takeout. Or me.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
I squeal as he grabs me by the waist, hauls me over his shoulder, then smacks me lightly on the ass before carrying me upstairs and tossing me into the middle of the unmade bed.
I scoot backwards, laughing, as he gets on the mattress, then crawls toward me on all fours, a dangerous, possessive look in his eyes. “There’s nowhere to go,” he says as my back presses against the vertical iron bars of the headboard. “And now I’m going to have my feast.”
On the last word, he takes hold of my ankles and slides me down the bed. I’m still in the heels and the shift-style dress I’d worn to the office, and the dress doesn’t slide with me, leaving my lacy panties exposed as the dress bunches around my waist.
I’m breathing hard as our eyes meet, and I reach up, purposefully grabbing the bars. His gaze is hard and demanding, and I think about that playful smack to my rear. The truth is, I want another. I want to feel his palm against my skin. I want him to take off his belt and use it to lace my wrists to these bars.
Too many times I was helpless with a man I loathed. I want to cleanse that from my past and have my submission be a gift to Liam, not something stolen from me. I want to be claimed. Overwhelmed. But I can’t get the words out.
I know that with Liam I should be able to speak freely, but for so many years I wasn’t allowed to want anything. And now—now I’m afraid he’ll think it’s strange, even though I know that spanking and light bondage are about as low on the kink scale as it’s possible to get.
I can’t bring myself to take the risk. I can’t seem to find the words to ask. All I can do is meet his eyes, hoping he can see the desire—the need—in mine.
His lips tease my inner thighs as his finger slips inside my panties, lightly teasing my clit. My pussy clenches with need, and I arch up, silently begging for more until he takes the hint and thrusts two fingers deep inside me. I grind against him, wanting more—everything—then gasp as his mouth continues to roam, finally reaching the lace edge of my panties.
He tugs them aside with a finger, then laves my clit with his tongue while those other two fingers move rhythmically inside me. I buck in response, wanting more. More intensity. More wildness. More Liam.
“Please,” I beg. “Liam, please.”
“Tell me,” he murmurs, his breath on my pussy teasing me as much as the stubble of his beard brushing my tender flesh. “Tell me what you want.”
My lips part, and in my mind I spell it out for him. Tie me up. Bind me. Spank me. Claim me. Take me.
But it is only the last part that leaves my lips. “Take me,” I murmur. “Take me, please.”
“Xena, baby. Christ, you drive me crazy.” He slides his way up my body, my dress a tangled mess between us. His cock teases my core, and as he pushes my knees up and thrusts slowly into me, his mouth claims mine, his tongue mimicking the movement of his cock until he is filling me completely.
I clutch his back, my fingernails most likely drawing blood, but I don’t care. How quickly I’ve gone from needy to desperate. To wanting what he is giving. To craving nothing but the pure pleasure of this man.
He’s on top of me, his huge, muscular body blanketing mine as he thrusts into me, over and over, deeper and harder. I cry out, craving release, craving more as I pull him toward me, wishing we could crawl inside each other so that we would explode together in perfect unison.
And then, oh God, and then the world seems to turn inside out and my body arches up as everything inside me catches fire, and all I can do is burn until I’m nothing but ashes in his arms.
“Was that good?” he asks, holding me close.
“Not even remotely,” I say, then feel his laugher reverberate through me. I’m still spinning, still glowing, and the siren’s call of sleep is luring me under.
But even as I succumb to pleasure and exhaustion in his arms, I can’t escape the tiny pinpricks of regret. Because as much as he took me high, he didn’t quite take me there.
I want him to claim me.
I want to be his.
On so many levels, I want to be his.
But I’m afraid that won’t ever be my reality.
I’m a girl who’s spent her entire life being disappointed. Who’s always gotten the exact opposite of what she wants.
Now I want Liam.
And I’m terrified that history will repeat itself, and in the end, I’m going to lose him forever.
Chapter Eighteen
I wake up alone, but there’s a freshly cut rose waiting for me on the bedside table, which makes me smile. There’s also a note, and when I read it, my smile grows broader.
Bakery. Back soon. L
In the car yesterday, I’d mentioned to him that I love blueberry muffins with crumbles on top, and he’d immediately shifted course for Upper Crust, a Malibu bakery that he swore had the best muffins in the world. A converted house, it sits on a rocky outcropping and from the drive-through lane, I could see tables out back on a patio overlooking the sea.
Unfortunately, they’d been out of blueberry muffins, so we’d made do with a fresh loaf of bread and some chocolate chip cookies. I’d expected that to be the e
nd of it, and the knowledge that he’s making an early morning jaunt for me makes me smile and stretch and hug my pillow, feeling ridiculously special.
I decide to go ahead and shower, as I imagine we’ll be heading to the office after we eat, even though it’s Saturday. I take longer than I need to, distracted by the multiple jets and the rain-style showerhead—not to mention a few minutes chatting with the fish, some of whom I’m sure are checking me out.
And, yes, part of the reason I linger is the hope that Liam will join me, since I don’t imagine he’s taken a shower yet. But by the time I’m shampooed, shaved, and scrubbed, he still hasn’t slid into this steamy corner of heaven with me. Frowning, I give up, turn off the water, and reach outside the door to retrieve a fluffy towel from the warming rack.
I wrap it around me, then poke my head out of the bathroom door. “Liam?”
I wait, but there’s no answer, and I frown as I quickly comb my hair, then do my makeup.
He still hasn’t returned by the time I finish, and I’m genuinely starting to worry. I’m actually heading to the bedside table to grab my new phone and call him when it rings, startling me enough that I jump.
His name pops up on the screen, and I sigh with relief, then snap out, “Where on earth are you!” before he can even say a word. “Sorry,” I continue, immediately contrite. “It’s just that I—”
“It’s my fault. I should have called earlier, but you were asleep when I left, and I didn’t want to wake you. But it looks like I’ll be at least another fifteen minutes, so I wanted to call and let you know I hadn’t run off with a gang of pirates.”
“Good to know,” I say. “But I do think you’d be sexy with a cutlass and an eye patch.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What’s the hold up? Nothing bad happened, did it? No one was following you, or—”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
I exhale with relief. “Did they have to go out and actually pick blueberries?”
He chuckles. “Not that, either, and the bag on the seat beside me is wildly tempting. I’m waiting to enjoy them with you, but I’m man enough to admit that I almost caved once or twice. As for the delay, I’m stuck behind a fender bender, and there’s no alternate route. They’ll have it cleared soon, I think.”
“You weren’t in it?”
“Safe and sound but I should have taken the bike. I’d be home with you by now.”
“As long as you’re in one piece.” I say, as I look around the room for my shopping bag from yesterday. “And thank you for going out for me. Sorry it’s turned into an ordeal.”
“Well, I think you’re worth it. But you can thank me however you like when I get back.”
The thought sends my imagination flying, and I only snap back to reality when he tells me that he can see the tow truck ahead. “So it won’t be long now. I’ll see you in—”
“Hang on a sec. Do you know what happened to my shopping bag yesterday?” I’d grabbed a cute pair of white capris and an off-the-shoulder blouse that I planned to wear today. Not to mention a new pair of flats.
“Closet,” he says. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I tossed it in there with my bag.”
“No problem, and thanks. I’ll be dressed by the time you get back, so we can have our muffins and head out anytime.”
“More’s the pity.”
“Well, I’m naked right now,” I tease, dropping the towel so that I’m not a liar. “You’re the one who left me all alone with a bed and a jetted shower.”
“Clearly, I’m a fool. See you soon.“
I’m still smiling after our mutual goodbyes, and I head to the closet for my bag. There are several in there, and as I grab mine from the floor, I somehow upset the bag behind it, which is sitting on an Army style footlocker. The bag falls to the floor, and I mutter a curse, pulling my own bag out of the closet as I squat to clean up my mess.
It’s only when I start to set the fallen bag upright that I get a glimpse of what’s in there—and then do a double-take when I see a pair of metal handcuffs.
At first, I think it’s something to do with his work. After all, the man chases bad guys. But there’s also a coil of silky black rope, another set of cuffs—these lined with fur, and a pair of nipple clamps.
Oh, my, yes.
And even though I know I shouldn’t keep snooping in the bag, nothing is going to stop me now. And I become more and more aroused with each new discovery. Vibrators. Massage oil. A silky blindfold. And a sleek leather paddle. These are the accoutrements of the fantasy I want to play out with Liam. The desire I couldn’t manage to speak because I didn’t know how he would react.
Now, though…
Now I imagine him using everything in that bag with me. On me.
And as I hear the garage door start to churn, I tell myself it’s time to summon the courage to tell him exactly what I want.
“Glad you’re there safe and sound,” Liam says as he enters the foyer from the garage. He sees me, then holds up his phone, pulling out his earbuds as he switches it to speaker. “What do you think of Seattle?”
“Seems pretty nice,” I hear Leah say. “At least what I’ve seen from the taxi and out my hotel window. Not that I’m going to slide into tourist mode or anything.”
“Anything of substance to report?”
“Actually, yes,” she says, and I immediately look to Liam, who raises his eyebrows in a show of both interest and surprise. “I got a call,” she says, as if that’s supposed to mean something.
Considering the pleased way that Liam says, “Oh, did you?” with a tone of rising interest, I’m assuming that it does mean something. I’m just not sure what, and I decide to bite the bullet and display my ignorance.
“Okay, clue me in and explain what you’re talking about.”
“Someone was checking me—or you—out,” she says. “About an hour after I got to the room, I got a call. Some guy with a smarmy voice saying he was with the hotel and was sending up a bottle of wine to me in room 1220 to welcome me to the city. I told him I really appreciated it, but that since I didn’t drink he didn’t need to make the effort. But that I would love a strawberry waffle in the morning. He told me that could be arranged, and there you go.”
I look at Liam and shake my head, not understanding.
“The caller wasn’t from the hotel,” he says.
“Oh.” I’m not sure how he knows that, but I guess that’s part of his job. Anyway, Leah confirms what he’s said.
“I called down to the front desk and said I’d changed my mind and wanted my complimentary wine after all. The woman assured me that wasn’t something they did.”
“So they know you’re—or rather, I’m—there and they have the room number. Good God, Leah, that doesn’t sound—”
“Relax. I’m already gone. I left some clothes strewn around the room and my suitcase open, put the Do Not Disturb sign on, then went down the stairs to the basement and out the employee entrance. Someone will probably deliver a waffle and a bullet tomorrow morning, but I’ll be long gone.”
“You’ve arranged for eyes on the hall and a team to take down our man?”
“Not my first time at this rodeo,” she says. “Yes. Ryan pulled in a team made up of some security personnel from Stark International Seattle and several men from a civilian SWAT-style team based here that he’s worked with before. I’m at Stark Applied Technology right now. We’re using one of the conference rooms as base camp.”
“You’re not heading back to LA?” I ask.
“Not after getting such a solid lead right away. I’ll ride this out. And yes, I’ll watch my back. Thanks for reminding me.”
Liam grins. “Watch your back,” he says, and I can practically hear Leah roll her eyes.
They end the call, and Liam looks at me, his smile wide and bright. “Another step closer. This is even better than we’d hoped.”
I nod. All we’d expected was to lead them away from LA. Now it looks like w
e may have actually set a workable trap.
“I have more good news, too,” he says, holding up the bag of muffins. “And not just these tasty treats. While I was stuck in traffic, Winston called. He’s back in LA, along with Ella and Rye.”
“Really?” I follow him to the kitchen.
“I guess they’re staying at her place before they head up to San Francisco for another show.”
“Of course. Right.” I wasn’t even thinking. Everyone else would already be on their way to the next gig, but Ella and Rye had intended to take a few days in the cabin. Considering recent events, it makes sense that they’re enjoying alone time at Ella’s Hollywood Hills house instead. Which also happens to be where my apartment is.
“Could we go see them today? And I can grab some more clothes while we’re there.”
“Why?” he asks, as he pours us both a cup of coffee. He looks me up and down, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re not even wearing the clothes you have here.”
“True,” I say. Despite telling him I needed the bag of clothes, after my discovery, I’d decided to stay in the fluffy robe he’d put out for me this morning. “But eventually, I will have to put on real clothes. Society expects it.”
“Damn society,” he mutters, shaking his head and making me laugh.
I expect him to say no to the jaunt since they—the infamous they—might still be watching the house and my apartment. But to my surprise he agrees, although more for him than for me, as he makes it clear that he wants to talk with Winston some more. He also tells me that Ella or Rye will need to go in and get my stuff—ideally while having a conversation about how they’re going to mail my clothing to Seattle for me—and that when we arrive, we’re driving into the garage and entering that way once the massive door has closed and hidden us from view.
“In other words, no convertible today.”
“No convertible,” he confirms, then calls Winston to find out what time will work.
We end up with a plan to meet them at eleven, which leaves enough time to chat and catch up before they have to leave for a meeting with one of Ella’s producers.
