All of Me: Liam & Sophie

by Callie Harper

  “Sophie was out on a boat in the storm last night?” I squeezed the paper cup in my hand too hard and some hot coffee spilled out onto my hand.

  “Yeah, but she’s OK. She—”

  I didn’t wait to hear more. I turned, threw my coffee into the nearest bin and stormed out of the shop.

  “Wait, your change!” Regina called after me but the door clanking shut behind me was her answer. Of all the stupid things I’d ever heard. After what had happened to her brother, you’d think Sophie would be smarter. It was one thing to insist on buying a crumbling pile of historic bricks. It was a whole other level of stubborn and stupid to head out into the ocean in the middle of the kind of storm we had last night. All too like the kind of storm Ian and I had been caught in.

  A few doors down, I tried the doorknob on her storefront. Regina had said she was OK. Maybe she’d be there already. The door was locked. I cupped my hands and peered into the glass. Sure enough, Sophie in a white T-shirt and a pair of shorts emerged from the back. She stopped in her tracks as she saw who it was at the door.

  “Let me in.” I knocked again, not bothering to hide my anger. She needed to know a stunt like she’d pulled was not OK. Slowly, tentatively, she continued her approach and unlocked the door.

  “What the hell were you doing out on the water last night?” I exploded as I strode into the empty room.

  “What are you—?”

  “Regina told me.” I jerked my thumb in the general direction of the coffee shop. “Are you out of your mind? Did you learn nothing from what happened to your brother?”

  “I learned a hell of a lot from what happened to my brother.” Defiance sparked in her gorgeous blue eyes. Her hands flew to her hips, sitting high on her feminine curves.

  “Apparently not.” I advanced on her, closing the gap between us, fury propelling me forward. “That storm last night? That was no goddamned joke. No one had any business heading out in it.”

  “I didn’t head out in it!” She threw her hands up, but also took a step in retreat, her eyes flicking nervously to the side. “You make it sound like I rowed out by myself in a dinghy. I was on a yacht.”

  “You know what a wall of water coming at 70 miles an hour can do to a yacht?” I advanced again. How could she have done that? How could she not have known the danger? I remembered the large and sturdy boat we’d taken for a joyride, our stupid 14-year-old minds after nothing but a good time. The wind and waves had snapped it in two like a toy boat in the hands of an angry giant.

  “We didn’t even leave the harbor.”

  “If you were on the water, you were in danger.” The next step she took away from me bumped her up against the wall. She reached her palms out along it as if clutching it for support.

  “They evacuated us,” she protested, sounding slightly more contrite.

  “Evacuated,” I repeated, now right up next to her, breathing hard. That close I could smell her, the unique and intoxicating blend of lavender and Sophie making my senses reel. “You had to be evacuated and you’re still telling me you didn’t do anything stupid?”

  “Theo said we had nothing to worry about.” Now her voice sounded much more meek.

  “Theo? Who the hell is Theo?” And why did I want to crush his tiny neck in my vice-like grip?

  “Theo Bartright. His family has a house here.”

  Bartright, the name rang a bell. His family had been coming to the island for years. He was an old money tool. I was sure Sophie’s mother was thrilled.

  “Liam.” She looked up at me, her voice softer, her eyes almost pleading. “I didn’t think—”

  “Damn straight you didn’t think.” My palm pounded against the wall over her head. Foolish woman, risking her life like that.

  “Liam, you’re scaring me.”

  I looked down and saw she was shaking, so much smaller than me and I had her trapped under my frame, my chest leaning in, palms over her head. “Damn it, Sophie.” I sucked in a deep breath, exhaling out over her head. I wanted to touch her, reassure her, let her know I wasn’t going to hurt her. Slowly removing my hand from the wall, I inched my palm to her face, but stopped when I noticed her breathing kick up. I was affecting her in more ways than one.

  “What if something had happened to you?” I asked her in a fierce whisper. “What if you’d gotten hurt? What if, in the storm—”

  “I’m all right, Liam.” She spoke quietly but surely, looking up into my eyes. Her palm landed in the middle of my chest, radiating heat toward my heart. “I’m all right.”

  I leaned down and took her lips with mine, fierce and sudden. I needed to pull her close, no distance between us. I couldn’t stop at hearing her tell me she was all right. I needed to feel it, hold her in my arms. She gasped as I kissed her, but only for a moment. Then she melted into me, her hands up digging deep into my shoulders as if to hold on, her lips searching mine as I promised her with my kiss, I will keep you safe. I will protect you. Nothing bad will happen to you, I won’t let it.

  “Hey! Oh, OK…” A guy’s voice broke into our world from behind me. “I can come back later.”

  “Wait!” Sophie pushed at me. Her hand felt so good, right at the center of my chest, it took me a second to realize she was doing it so she could break free. Like a drugged man trying to snap out it, I pulled myself back slow and logy. “I’m sorry!” Sophie called out, sounding much more together as she slipped out and away. “Wait, thanks for coming.” She rushed over toward the door.

  I stood like a dumb bear, taking a few seconds to try to screw my head on straight. Then I turned around to see some idiot flooring guy I knew would over-charge and under-deliver.

  “What the hell?” I ran a hand through my hair, meaning the question in more ways than one. I had to be losing my mind, kissing Sophie like that. And then I’d lost it in a whole other way from the kiss, itself.

  “I’m here to take a look at your flooring.” He shook Sophie’s hand, looking at her like a wolf. She may as well have on a red riding hood.

  “Great.” She shook his hand back, and though her voice sounded composed I could see she was still shaking slightly. “The water damage is back here.” She started leading him toward the back.

  “You’ve got water damage, too?”

  “It’s none of your business.” She scowled at me. The flooring guy gave me an amused look. He could take his amused ass right out the door as far as I was concerned.

  “Oh yeah, you’ve got a hell of a project on your hands.” I could hear the guy’s declaration, delivered in the practiced tone that let her know “hand over your checkbook.” He probably took one look at Sophie and could tell the girl was money. It didn’t matter that she wore a T-shirt and shorts, she still screamed it from the top of the long, soft fall of her honey-colored hair all the way down to her Italian leather pale pink flats.

  “This here?” I heard the floor planks creak as he kneeled down. I could practically see the crack of his ass showing as he bent over and peered at the mess. “This is gonna be a problem.”

  “Not your problem,” I growled as I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed against my chest. I just couldn’t stand by and listen to it happen. I knew Sophie wasn’t my responsibility. She wasn’t my woman anymore, not by a long shot, but for the love of God this man needed to pack it up.

  “Excuse me?” He stood up, trying to look territorial as he shot me a glare.

  “You heard me,” I continued, steady and sure. “She’s not going to work with you. You can head out.”

  “Who the hell is he?” He looked at Sophie, nodding his head at me like I was a space alien dropped down into the scene.

  “I’m someone who’s looking out for her. And she’s not going to be hiring you.”

  Sophie looked up, her fingers scrunched in her hair. “Am I going crazy?” she asked the ceiling.

  “I don’t need this,” the flooring guy declared, picking up his pad of paper in a huff.

  “Wait, can you just give me an estim
ate?” Sophie called after him. I stepped to the side to let him pass. The man needed a wide berth.

  “Not with this guy here being a pain in my ass.” He pointed at me with his clipboard.

  “Got that right.”

  “It’s summertime, lady.” He shook his head and continued his path out the door. “I got enough work as it is. I don’t need no headaches.”

  “Good call.” I encouraged his exodus.

  “Why the hell are you trying to ruin everything?” Sophie came at me now with just as much anger flashing in her eyes as I’d had earlier. Jaw set, she glared and nearly spat out her words. “I’m 25 and I’m living life how I want. I’m making my own choices. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t like them.”

  Now I took a couple of steps back. She was small but she was mighty. “You need to get out of my store. And stop trying to boss me around.”

  “Has it occurred to you maybe I’m trying to help you out? Stop you from getting way in over your head? Hemorrhaging money on some of these idiots pretending they can fix up your store?”

  “Who made you such an expert on all of this?” As she threw her hands up in exasperation, the hem of her T-shirt lifted, giving me a sweet, brief flash of her stomach. I could lick that. “I mean, I know you’re a firefighter,” she continued ranting, oblivious of my tangent of lust. “And I know you were caught out in that storm so you’re cautious.”

  “But I’m sure Theo is much more of an expert when it comes to safety.” Sarcasm dripped off my words.

  “He’s not an idiot!”

  “But I am?”

  “I’m not saying that.” She brought her hand to her forehead, rubbing it as if she were developing a migraine. I felt the same way. Only I wanted to rub her forehead, then run my hands through her hair, cup her cheek, tilt her chin up and kiss her all over again. That would feel good. She fit so right in my arms.

  “You need to go,” she repeated, pointing to the door for emphasis.

  “All right,” I agreed. For now. “Just promise me you’re not going to hire some numb nuts who has no idea what he’s doing. This project of yours—”

  “Is a nightmare. I know, that’s what the guy you chased out of here was starting to explain to me.”

  “You need good people. Honest people who know what they’re doing.”

  “That’s why I’m getting a whole bunch of estimates. Or trying to.”

  “From the wrong people.”

  “You’re driving me crazy.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

  “I’m leaving.” I put my hand on the doorknob to show I meant it. She peeked at me, wondering what would come next. “But I’m going to give you some names of guys I know. Guys who won’t rob you blind or leave you worse off than you were before. And they’ll know how to work on a historic building.”

  “Well…” She stared at the floor, then at the ceiling, then let out a long breath she’d been holding. “That would be helpful, Liam, but you don’t have to.”

  “I know I don’t have to.” I took a deep breath, too. This woman was so damn stubborn. “And I can do the flooring myself.” The minute the offer was out of my mouth I wondered why in the hell I’d said it. I hadn’t thought about saying it. It had just popped out. But it was true. I’d done enough work on houses, enough carpentry that I knew I could fix her flooring. And I wouldn’t charge her for it, either.

  “That’s not…” Hands back up on her hips, she looked at the floor and bit her lip. “I’m not sure—”

  “I’ll put together a list of guys who can help you out.” And with that, I left the building.

  So much for sleeping. Even after the night I’d had, I felt as wired as superman in a fight. I headed home and holed up on my couch, laptop fired up and ready, phone at my side. I put together a list I was sure many would pay good money for—the best guys on the island who’d do the highest quality work for the most decent prices. She needed these guys, because our island, especially during the summer, was overrun with snakes. Anytime you had fat birds laying around like we did, you got predators slithering around, looking for an easy way to make a quick buck.

  Sophie didn’t need that. She had a complicated enough job on her hands and she needed people she could trust. People who’d treat her right. People like me.

  Finally around three p.m., I switched off and headed into bed for a much-needed nap. Shades drawn, I still had the window open so I could listen to the sound of the waves. How many people could actually hear the ocean from their bedroom? I had it good in so many ways. I had it made.

  Except now I ached, like I was missing exactly what I needed. Like I couldn’t rest again until I had Sophie back in my arms. Kissing her had been a mistake of epic proportions. The smell of her, like spring after a fresh rain, alive and ripe and fresh. She’d trembled in my arms and clung to me like I was saving her, rescuing her and she never wanted me to let her go. Until she’d pushed me away.

  Fuck, this was complicated. I shifted in the sheets, lying on my back. Exhaustion pulled at my limbs. I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. My body and mind needed to rest. But Sophie kept prodding me, pushing me, making me remember.

  The way she’d looked after she’d had an orgasm, all those years ago. Stunned and pink and glowing. The sounds she’d made, I could still hear them, her desire for me building, climaxing, building again. I could never get enough of her, not then, not now. It felt like sipping a drug, stepping that near to her again. Feeling the soft plush of her lips, the sweet yield of her body, the dip of her lower back.

  I reached down and stroked as I fantasized, wanting more. Wanting that kiss to keep going, uninterrupted, just the two of us. I’d travel down to that patch of stomach I caught a glimpse of and kiss her there. I’d unbutton, undress her, spread her naked before me so I could look and stroke and kiss.

  I wanted her tied down, with her wrists bound up over her head. Only then could I truly take my time. When she touched me it made my blood boil. I struggled to keep the kind of control I wanted, and with Sophie I needed control. I needed to see how far I could push her, the woman who’d made me feel more than any other. I wanted to make her crazy, test her limits then push past them. Make her cry and beg with desire, then reward her more than she’d ever dreamed.

  Her breasts, the pink of her nipples so ripe, I could picture her as I stroked my hard, thick shaft faster now. She’d twist against her restraints, wide-eyed, frightened at first as she gave me complete control. I’d play with that, make her feel her vulnerability, make sure she understood how deeply I owned her body, mind and soul.

  My balls tightened and I could feel the need for release, the urgent pulse and throb. But I held back, slowing my pace, making it last. Like I’d make her wait for it. Tied up, I’d lick her everywhere but where she needed it most. I’d circle her breasts, cupping, blowing on her tender tips. She’d pant and whine. I could see her arch her back, her ribs showing as she begged me to suck on her, bite her, give her more than a teasing caress.

  I’d break her down until she was glistening with sweat, panting, pussy gleaming wet, legs open in invitation. I’d suffered seven years, aching, wanting, needing. Now it was her turn to ache, come undone, shuddering and helpless under my power. I’d make her lie very, very still. Only when she lay there like a good girl would I slowly, so slowly bring my finger to her pussy as I took my mouth to her aching, stiff nipple. And then I’d bite.

  She’d cum as I did it, screaming out in pleasure and pain, the sensation of my teeth on her sensitive flesh shooting to her core and rippling out in waves. I came at the thought, pumping myself against my stomach, my seed hot and wasted as I dreamed of what I’d do to her.

  Lying there panting, I knew it didn’t just have to be a fantasy anymore. Sophie had come back to my island. I could feel the need coursing through her the way it did through me. But I knew she had no idea what lay just beneath the surface between us, like embers threatening to burst into flames.


  7

  Sophie

  The next morning I had a list waiting for me, as promised. Tucked into an envelope, pushed under the door of my shop, it was there for me bright and early at seven a.m. I wondered when he’d delivered it. It had to have been at night, maybe late at night.

  What was he doing putting together that list and dropping it off for me when he should have been out with friends? With his girlfriend, if he had one? Which he probably did. Even though he’d kissed me like there was no tomorrow, like I was the one and only woman he wanted and had ever wanted and would ever want for the rest of his days.

  I walked into the back of the store and sank to the floor, list in hand. I recognized his handwriting from years back. The summer we’d been together he’d written me notes and left them for me where he knew I’d discover them. Never anything long or especially poetic, Liam somehow seemed to know exactly what to say.

  “The way you smile.” He’d written that once, reminding me of how we’d look at each other, unable to stop kissing, smiling, laughing, kissing again. One night as we’d sat in the cab of his truck, a streetlight providing dim illumination, he’d gazed at me. He’d cupped my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb as I’d beamed up at him.

  “The way you smile,” he’d marveled, as if my smile was the best thing he’d ever seen on this earth. That was the way he made me feel, like there was no one like me. As if I were a wonder who struck him with constant amazement.

  And now he’d written me a list of guys who could help with my store, electricians and plumbers and painters. I knew I shouldn’t find it particularly meaningful. It had probably taken him all of ten minutes. Half of them had to be buddies of his from the fire station, and the other half their cousins and brothers.

  It wasn’t anything like the kinds of personal, love-struck notes he used to write me. He hadn’t written an introduction, no “Sorry I keep yelling at you,” or even, “Hello, here is the list I mentioned I’d give you.” He hadn’t signed it, either. The man had never been about pleasantries.