Deceiving The Groom

by Shadow, Lisa

Claire bit back a giggle. “Are you?”

  “Yes. I had a party and everything. And you know, Uncle Liam—”

  “Ah Lexi, what movie do—” Liam cut in unsuccessfully.

  “—dressed up as Buzz!” Lexi finished.

  Claire covered her lips with the back of her fingertips. “Buzz?” She ran her gaze over the crisp lines of Liam’s suit. The ridiculous image of him in a giant bumble bee costume sprang to mind.

  Liam moved both hands to the steering wheel. “Lightyear,” he said in a low voice.

  “Oh…” Claire twisted and leant her head into the back. “That must have been fun. I’m sure you have lots of photos of your uncle dressed as Buzz.”

  Lexi’s eyes rounded. “Oh I do, I even got my own camera. I have so many photos! Want to see?”

  “I’m sure Claire has lots to do.”

  Claire set her gaze on Liam, and a smile filled with tease tweaked her lips. “I’m sure I can make time to see that. It’s not every day I get to see pictures of a life sized Buzz Lightyear.”

  Liam glanced at Claire. One of his thick, dark brows arched. She smirked. A half-chuckle-half-groan left Liam’s lips as they pulled in the driveway.

  Inside Liam’s kitchen, Claire looked down at a small photograph. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at Toy Story the same way again.”

  Her gaze absorbed the costume stretched impossibly tight over the virile frame in the photo. The padded muscles inserted for a lesser man bulged over Liam’s large biceps. He looked more abominable snowman than intergalactic space hero.

  “If you ladies are done enjoying yourselves at my expense, I believe we have some papers to sign.” Liam slid a glass of wine across the bench.

  Claire watched his fingertips leave the stem and her gaze ran up his forearm to where his shirt sleeves were rolled. The pulse in her neck jumped. His top shirt button was undone, and the smooth patch of skin exposed begged to be touched. Claire tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Lexi, why don’t you go pick tonight’s movie?” Liam instructed.

  Lexi scooped her photos into her box. “I already know what I want to watch! I want to watch Toy Story!”

  Liam cleared his throat. “I think maybe we can give something else a try tonight…”

  Surprisingly, but not entirely for evil intents, watching Liam squirm was a complete treat. One that she guessed was not gifted often.

  “Oh, come on, Uncle Liam, it sounds like fun,” Claire said with a twitch of her lips.

  Liam sucked in his cheek, one eye scrunched at Claire in a look that suggested trouble of the good kind.

  “Do you like it, Claire?” Lexi asked.

  It took her a moment to grasp the question. “I think it might be my new favorite.”

  Lexi flashed a broad grin at Claire. Her face had a sweet dent, a copy of her uncle’s. “Uncle Liam, can Claire stay and watch it with us?”

  Liam’s gaze flickered to Claire. “I’m sure Claire is busy.”

  Claire hesitated. It would be better to avoid Lexi, keep her out of everything. Her gaze moved over Lexi’s hopeful face. It reminded Claire of another little girl who she longed to see. “Lexi, isn’t this your special night?”

  Lexi tapped the lid of her photo box. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I can have friends on Friday, just not Uncle Liam.”

  Liam gave a snort and put the wine back in the fridge.

  Claire swallowed and turned to Liam. “I have some papers to sign then I’m all yours.” It was time to get to breaking some of Liam’s rules.

  Chapter Three

  Claire willed her eyes to stay focused on the television as the movie finished. Liam pointed the remote control and the screen went blank. She couldn’t move, couldn’t look at the sight of the sleeping child curled affectionately at Liam’s side.

  “Out like a light,” Liam whispered.

  Claire forced herself to turn her head, and her gaze fixed on Liam’s face. His head was bowed, and his expression was like soft gold butter. Bitterness formed at the back of her throat. Maybe she had gotten things more wrong than she’d thought. This man was tough, but he didn’t look like someone without mercy.

  He glanced up and met her eyes. “I’ll just put her to bed. Back in a moment.” Liam scooped up the sleeping child and rose from the couch, then started up the stairs.

  Claire leaned back into the cushions and covered her face. What the hell was she doing?

  She dropped her hands and gathered up the empty glasses from the table to take to the kitchen, strolling past the counter to the sink. Her handbag sat on the bench, beckoning her to take it and flee. But how would that look? Was she really prepared to throw everything away just because he was nice to his niece? Perspective—she needed to put things into perspective.

  She went back into the living room and collected the popcorn bowl and emptied the un-popped kernels into the bin. The homey smell of salty, buttery popcorn still coated the air. She set the dishes in the sink and searched for a sponge. The huge modern faucet had a small rotating handle at the base and she pressed it gently to one side. Water exploded out in a freezing jet. Claire shrieked, reaching through the water to grab the handle and flick it to the other side. The water beat down harder, growing hot.

  Breath caught in her throat and she twisted it back to cold. How the hell did the damn thing work? She leant into the stream and held her hand out in an attempt to stop the water from spraying everywhere. A solid presence pressed into her back. Large hands stretched around her and turned the handle to the centre, ending the stream.

  Claire panted. Her dress blanketed her skin in an icy sheath. Yet heat radiated behind her, an exquisite heat. She leaned back and it didn’t move. Her nipples were beads, tinier and harder than they had ever felt before. Hands ran up her arms from her elbows to her shoulders. Her chilled skin rippled with hot shivers.

  “You can’t seem to be trusted near water, Claire.” The hands travelled back down to her elbows.

  “Lucky for me, you keep popping up at the right time.”

  The warmth departed and Claire almost groaned at its loss. Liam moved to a cupboard and retrieved a hand towel. Her hands still rested inside the sink, drops of water dripping into the stainless steel basin. He approached and held the towel out. Claire took it slowly from his hand, the end trailed between his fingers.

  “Thanks…” Claire straightened, drying her hands then brushing the towel over her jaw and neck. Liam’s gaze moved with the sweep of her hands. He cleared his throat. “I think that dress is a lost cause. It’s going to have to come off.” His voice thickened.

  Claire’s eyes flared and her hand dropped. She held his gaze. It did have to come off, everything did. Liam stepped forward, looking like he was ready to explain his words. Claire met him halfway. Her fingers moved to the button of her dress.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Liam froze. Claire flicked the top button of her pale pink dress without looking. It popped open. She watched him through half shut eyes. Her fingers paused at the next button, the one right between her breasts. There was every chance he’d throw her out. This wasn’t stretching the rules—it was firing at them with her entire feminine artillery.

  Liam’s nostrils flared. She’d never taken the lead before. There was something about seeing Liam watch her as if she were the strong one, the one in charge. As if she had some control over him. It gave her the nerve to flick her fingers again. His jaw clenched and suddenly he seemed larger again.

  Claire pressed her lips together and let her gaze drop to the buttons, undoing the rest in seconds. Her dress hung open to the waist, revealing her belly button. She didn’t wait for more nerve, just shrugged her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. It pooled around her feet in a sodden heap. She lifted her gaze slowly. Her cheeks were hot and her heart pounded recklessly against her ribs.

  The muscles in Liam’s neck twitched and his expression turned hungry. Claire lost all delusions of control. His hands darted towards her and g
ripped her forearms. His thumbs brushed back and forth on her skin and her muscles softened as she allowed herself to be tugged against him.

  The hard points of her nipples grazed his chest through the fabric of her bra, drawing a hiss from her lips. Heat gathered in her belly like liquid that spread down, pooling below. The damp skin of her stomach brushed against his belt.

  Liam’s mouth seized hers. His warm tongue slid between her lips and she met it, stoking hers against its clean taste. His masculine cologne filled her nostrils with notes of musk. She breathed it in deeply and opened her lips wider.

  His hands slid down her arms and grasped her hips, her breath catching against his lips. His kissed her as though his passion was held back by a veil of control—she wanted to surge right through.

  She stroked the planes of his chest, flowing over the ridges of his pecs to wind around his neck. His mouth devoured her, taking her into him, and closing the world to everything but this—to everything but him.

  Her hips ground against Liam’s, and the ridged evidence of his lust pressed into her abdomen. Restraint dissolved, liquefying into only the need for touch, for flesh, for the press of body against body. His hands grasped her hips, lifting her from the ground.

  Her legs wrapped around him. His kiss never letting up, they drifted down a hall and into a room. How they got there she didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her skin, his heartbeat against hers.

  Buttons on his shirt popped as her greedy hands sought flesh. His hands joined hers, tearing away the final barriers between them. Finally, with a relief that was almost a release in itself, they tumbled onto the bed, and the length of his gloriously nude body covered hers.

  He cupped her breasts squeezing their peaks. She cried out against him. The bottomless longing gripped her from the needy points of her nipples to the slick opening between her thighs.

  Liam dipped his head and his lips took the place of his fingers. Sensation ripped through her, tightening and turning until she thought she would explode. She clasped his shoulders, her hips bucking, begging for more.

  He heeded her body’s plea, his hand whispering over the gentle curve of her belly to cup her intimately. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Liam laved her nipple unbearably. Her nails bit his skin, and she stiffened, arching and straining. His fingers slipped between her slick lips tracing the outline of her femininity.

  He brushed so close to what she needed, and then he was there—his thumb brushing that tiny, ultrasensitive detonator. Energy coiled in her core. Two thick fingers pressed inside her while his thumb circled. Her world imploded, everything drew in, contracting before coming apart in a cataclysm of sweet rippling energy. She shuddered, her legs stiffening, toes pointing, chest arching. His lips left her nipple to slam over her mouth, catching her wild sounds against his tongue.

  Her world slowed, and reality rose. Suddenly the throb pulsing between her legs was nowhere near as intense as the eyes that stared down at her. Eyes that looked into her with no desperate impulse to dilute their intensity, only a soft bittersweet glow to prevent her from looking away.

  His fingers rose to her face, brushing her cheek and gazing at her like she was his own personal wonder. There was no escape, no avoiding the thundering realization that she wanted this man. A man her body yearned for yet her mind detested.

  She kissed him slowly, deeply. His body shifted, settling over her. Desperation returned, but this time it came from an ache in her chest that demanded her body fulfill it. She grasped his hips pulling the part of him she wanted closer.

  Liam raised himself above her, gazing down. The expression on his face made the ache that much deeper, that much sweeter. He groaned and drew back, reaching inside his bedside table and tearing open a packet to cover himself in the space of a heartbeat.

  The rock hard head of his cock teased her entrance. Claire’s hips rose and her eyes squeezed shut. Liam paused. Her hands fisted on the back of his triceps. She spread her thighs wider, opening herself to him fully, beckoning him in. “Please, Liam…”

  Liam rubbed his shaft down the length of her, drawing himself over her opening then darting away. Her nails bit his skin.

  “I want you to look at me Claire. Look at me.”

  Claire turned her head slowly. His tip pressed against her entrance. Her neck arched slightly, but she did as he asked and held his gaze.

  Her brow creased. “Please, Liam.”

  Liam groaned and pushed himself into her with exquisite restraint. Her lips opened with a silent gasp. She stretched around him. He eased inside her one glorious inch at a time. Pleasure bloomed with every delicious movement.

  Whatever Liam saw in her face seemed to shred the last of his control. He drew back and surged into her. A high cry left her lips and desperate, piercing need gripped her. Liam thrust in hard uneven strokes, driving ripples of pleasure along her senses. They moved together, arching and clinging. He moved deeper, harder, until Claire felt her insides split apart in ecstasy.

  Her body convulsed around him and Liam shuddered with her, pressing all the way inside her before taking her lips with his. His body relaxed against her and his kiss softened. Liam remained above her, remained inside her where she still pulsed in aftermath. Her arms wound around his neck as she floated on breathless waves of completion.

  Claire’s cheek rested on the hard muscle of Liam’s chest. His heart slowed beneath her ear. The masculine scent of his body mingled with the musky hint of sex on the sheets. Her body was a traitor, that’s all there was to it. It ignored what it should feel and instead responded to the enemy like he was the new axis of the earth. It may just have been the longest night of her life. Claire’s breath grew more erratic.

  Her muscles would have better use as a mushy dessert than controlling her limbs. Not even fitness boot camp had left her so physically flogged. It was impossible to think. All she could picture was the lovemaking they had shared over and over. It wasn’t supposed to be so good.

  It shouldn’t be so good.

  The soft whistle of air between his lips told her he was finally spent. She’d thought he would never tire, he was relentless. When her body had given all the pleasure it could, he conjured more from reserves she never knew she possessed. It had all gone way too far. This was not the plan, not yet, not like this. How could she do these things with someone she hated? How could she feel these things for someone who was the cause of all her heartaches? She must be demented.

  Claire eased herself out of Liam’s arms and sat up. She glanced down at him. His features were supple and relaxed. All she wanted to do was lie back down in his arms and wake with him in the morning. Impulses she loathed herself for.

  Claire slithered off the bed and fished her bra and panties from the floor. She slipped them on and groaned under her breath. Her dress was still in the kitchen. Tiptoeing across the room she inched open the door and crept down the hallway, her fingers trailing along the wall in the dark.

  Her foot landed on something hard. She bent down and found one of her shoes. A few steps later she found the other. Soft light still emanated from the kitchen. She stepped forward and the sight brought her to a stop. Her dress was on the floor. So was the towel she had dried herself with. This was where she had stripped for him. This is where she had been as bold as she liked to pretend she was, as bold as she liked others to think she was, but had never actually been. Until now.

  Claire slid her foot into one shoe and then the other, her heart racing. She had to get away from here. She picked up her dress. It was still wet but she put it on, shivering as it coated her like a soppy rag. She raced to the door. God help her, she never wanted to see Liam Channing again.

  Liam rolled over, his arms reaching for warm skin but finding cool, empty sheets instead. He sat up, the sheet pooling on his naked lap. Where was she? He slid out of bed. There was no sign of the girl who had spent the night showing him exactly how closely two bodies could intertwine. He
padded to the bathroom and opened the door, finding it as empty as he was beginning to feel.

  Did Claire really sneak from his bed in the middle of the night like some dirty one night stand? He didn’t know her well but she didn’t seem the type. He rubbed his palm against the back of his head, then strode to his wardrobe and pulled on a pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt.

  If that’s what he could expect from her he was glad he found out now. He tugged on his sneakers, jerking the laces roughly. He’d stopped having time for people who walked out on him about the same time his dad had left him, his mother, and his sister. He’d sworn to take care of his family, vowed never to let it happen to him again. It seemed like he’d failed on all counts.

  He went to the kitchen and filled a cup with steaming coffee waiting in the pot. It was just as well. He’d broken his number one rule. He’d slept with a woman in his house—Lexi’s house. Last night should never have happened. It was better that it went no further. Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned, pot still in hand.

  A smile flipped his scowl. “Clai—” The smile faded as Mrs. Ruiz’s round face greeted him. “Oh…good morning, Mrs. Ruiz.”

  “Good morning, Liam. You look like you were expecting someone else?”

  Liam turned and roughly plonked the pot back on its base. “No, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

  Mrs. Ruiz’s brows rounded slightly, then she gave him her pursed-lipped expression that told him he was going to need his coffee extra strong this morning.

  “We need to talk. About Lexi.”

  Liam sighed, a deep ache settling into his chest. He slid onto a sleek stainless stool at the counter. “Of course.”

  Mrs. Ruiz remained on the other side of the bench. “Now, when I returned here from my daughter’s house this morning, I was very disturbed.”

  Liam’s eyes widened. Had she seen the dress on the kitchen floor? Claire sneaking out the back door?

  Crap, had she heard them at some point in the early morning?

  It’d been a long night. He had no idea what time he’d finally fallen asleep. Liam stroked the stubble on his cheek. Just what he needed, a lecture on the proper behavior for someone raising a child. He’d been stupid letting this happen in Lexi’s home.