Heartbreaker (Rascals Book 3)

by Katie McCoy

  She didn’t respond, but pinched his cheek instead, like he was a little kid. It was kind of adorable.

  “Old friend?” I asked, when Polly had gone.

  “Sort of,” he said, looking at the menu. Since he had just ordered, I knew he was trying to avoid this topic of conversation. Which made me want to plow forward with it.

  “Sort of?” I asked.

  He put down the menu. “Friend of my mother’s,” he finally answered, looking reluctant. “She used to work here.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. Liam was so proper and polished, I had a hard time imaging his mother working at a place like this. I had just assumed that he came from money, one of the rich families in town who lived in a world of prep schools and country clubs. But it seemed that I was wrong about him.

  Polly came back and took my order. Liam waited until she was gone and then turned his full attention on me. Uh-oh. I knew I was going to have to explain what happened at the ballet. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with those dark, intense eyes of his.

  “I used to be a dancer,” I started slowly, taking my napkin and twisting it tightly. “I was a ballerina for most of my life, until about a year ago. I fell. Messed up my leg. Badly. So badly that the doctors told me that it wasn’t going to be possible for me to dance professionally again.”

  Saying it out loud was still hard. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I squeezed them close to keep them from falling. Also, to keep from looking at Liam, who was still staring intently at me. Saying nothing.

  “I haven’t been to a ballet performance since the accident,” I said, focusing my attention on the table and the napkin I was still twisting in my hands. “I thought it would be fine tonight, after so much time.” I let out a sad, little laugh. “Obviously I was wrong.”

  “I’m sorry,” Liam said, the words simple, but meaningful.

  “Don’t be,” I told him. “You couldn’t have known. It was a nice thought. I guess I just need a little more time. A little more time to be sad. And angry.” I laughed again, this time the sound was harder. “Isn’t that stupid? Being angry about something I can’t change?”

  “I think that’s pretty normal,” he said, and there was something in his voice that made me look up at him.

  He was staring at the table this time. “I know what it’s like to be angry about things you can’t change,” he told me.

  “Yeah?” I sighed. “What do you do about it?”

  “You find the things you can change, and change them,” he said, his voice serious. “You get a plan and you control what you can.”

  “What about the things you can’t control?” I asked.

  “You find a way to do without them,” he said, as if it were easy.

  I wasn’t sure if I believed him, but our food arrived before the conversation could continue, a spread of burgers and fries. We ate in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was nice. Comforting. For the first time since I had met Liam, I felt like I was starting to see another side of him. A side that I really liked. That I connected with.

  “Anger can be powerful,” he said after dinner, when we were walking back to my apartment.

  I waited for him to continue.

  “It can be a motivating factor if you let it,” he offered. “If you let it, it can blind you. Or you can focus it. Focus yourself. Let it propel you forward.”

  I soaked up his words, trying to imagine how I could refocus the anger I felt over losing my career, over losing my passion, and let that anger move me forward. I wasn’t sure how I could do it, but I like the idea.

  “It sounds like you have experience with this type of thing,” I observed, casting a sideways glance over at him.

  He turned to me, those dark eyes blazing. “Maybe,” he said, but it was clear that he wasn’t thinking about that anymore.

  I got a sexy thrill from the way he looked at me. No one had ever looked at me like that before. My exes had seemed to think of my body in terms of how flexible it was, despite neither of them being very adventurous in the bedroom. It had felt like they saw me as more of a novelty, rather than a living, breathing, sexy woman.

  Liam definitely looked at me as if I was a woman.

  And I knew that he was all man.

  It wasn’t clear who reached for who first, but I was in his arms, and his mouth was hot on mine. I didn’t think I would ever get sick of the way Liam kissed. I felt it throughout my whole body—this warm, tingling feeling that spread across my skin. I never wanted him to stop, and I fisted my hands in the lapels of his jacket to keep him close.

  Not that he was moving away. The opposite, in fact. His hands were on my hips, his fingers clutching me so tightly that I was pretty sure I’d have bruises there. It didn’t hurt, and I wouldn’t have minded if it did.

  “My place isn’t far,” I told him, as he moved his mouth to my throat.

  “Mmhmm,” he murmured against my neck, the rough rumble of his voice vibrating through me.

  My head fell back and I closed my eyes, barely able to focus on anything but the way his mouth felt against me. And still, I wanted more. So, with a strength I didn’t know I had, I pulled back and took his hand.

  “Come on,” I told him.

  We practically ran the rest of the way to my apartment. And all the way up the stairs. We were both breathing heavily by the time we reached my door, but it wasn’t from physical exertion. It was from desire. Need. Because I wanted Liam with a passion I’d never experienced before. It was overwhelming and scary and wonderful.

  With shaking hands, I managed to unlock my door. Liam pulled me inside, tossing my keys aside as he pushed the door closed and then pushed me up against it. His hands skimmed my curves, the silky soft slide of the fabric over my already sensitized skin making me even hotter. But it was also too much—all the layers of clothing between us. I wanted to get rid of them, and I was feeling impatient.

  I untied Liam’s tie and began pulling buttons from buttonholes, even though I really wanted to just grab either side of his shirt and rip it open. But with every button I opened, I got another tantalizing peek at his amazing chest.

  And it was incredible. He was built—his six-pack rock hard beneath my palms, his stomach tightening as I ran my hands over it. I was pretty sure I could have spent all day worshipping it, but Liam very quickly made it clear that he had other things in mind.

  Before I could pull the shirt free from his pants, he had bent down and lifted me into his arms. As a dancer, I was used to getting picked up by strong men, but this was different. This was sexy and intense and just right.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he ordered.

  I gestured behind me. I didn’t really have a bedroom. I had a couch that pulled out into a bed that sat in the middle of my teeny-tiny loft apartment. I watched Liam’s face as he took in our surroundings, and I could see lots of emotions flash across it. But before I could identify any of them, they were replaced with intense lust. An emotion I felt very, very comfortable with.

  He carried me over to my couch, laying me down on the cushions.

  “I like this dress,” he commented, kneeling above me, his hands on the straps of my dress. “But I’m much more interested in what’s underneath it.”

  “Not much,” I told him honestly.

  He let out a guttural groan as he dragged one strap down, revealing that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I rarely did. Dancers weren’t exactly known for their busts, and I had less than most. Other guys had always made me feel self-conscious about my chest, but the way Liam was looking at me made me forget all about them.

  Because Liam looked like he wanted to eat me up. And I desperately wanted him to.

  He pulled the other strap down, until my dress pooled at my waist.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his hand sliding down from my shoulder to cup one of my breasts. “Fuck.”

  Then he lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth.

  I cried out with pleasure as
his teeth closed on the sensitive peak. Holy cow, the man knew what to do with his mouth. And his tongue. And his teeth. I could only imagine what he was capable of when he used all of his body parts. Especially the one I could feel pressing hard against my leg.

  He teased one nipple with his mouth, dragging his thumb over the other. The sensations were overwhelming, and I felt pleasure building up inside of me. I was already close—something that shocked me. In the past, it had required so much work and effort on my partner’s part to get me even close to orgasm. And they had always treated it like it was a chore, something they had to do. Not Liam. It was clear that he was enjoying himself immensely—which made me even hotter. I had never experienced anything like this before, and I didn’t want it to end.

  As Liam lavished my breasts with attention, he was also making quick work of my dress, which pretty soon ended up flying to the other end of the room, finding a place on the floor next to my keys. And then I was spread out on the couch beneath him, wearing nothing but a skimpy, black lace thong.

  He let out a strangled string of curses, and I couldn’t help smiling. Even though I was the one practically naked and he was still mostly dressed, I felt powerful. In control.

  Liam hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong and dragged it slowly down my legs. I was wet and ready for him, my legs falling open as he knelt on the floor between them.

  He slid his hand from my ankle all the way to my knee, his knuckles dragging gently against the inside of my leg, electrifying the sensitive skin there. He followed the touch with his mouth, dropping kisses along the inside of my knee before going higher and higher and higher until his mouth touched the spot that was aching for him.

  I nearly arched off of the couch as he licked me—long, teasing strokes with his hot tongue, lapping me up. My toes curled inside my stiletto heels—the only thing I was still wearing—as Liam teased me with his tongue and lips.

  Oh my God, was this really happening?

  Pleasure swirled inside of me, my eyes falling closed, my head pressed against the cushions, my hands looking for purchase. For something to hold on to. I found Liam’s hair, which I buried my fingers in, holding on tight.

  If I was grabbing him too hard, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I was pretty sure I felt him smiling against me as I bucked my hips, clutching the silky strands of his hair. Pleasure was building inside of me, and it was rushing towards me faster than it ever had before.

  Liam dragged his hand up my thigh, those talented fingers of his tickling me with his feather-soft touch before joining his mouth. He teased me with a finger as he licked my clit, then slid the finger inside of me just as my orgasm was cresting.

  I came. Hard.

  My entire body shook as pleasure coursed through me, my hands still gripping Liam’s hair, my head pressed hard against the cushions. I had never come this hard in my entire life, and it felt amazing.

  It took a moment for me to come back to reality, but when I did, I found Liam kneeling above me. He put his hand on my cheek and kissed me. But unlike the other kisses we’d shared, this one was sweet and tender. I practically melted into his arms as he smoothed the hair away from my face.

  His hair was a mess, but I liked it.

  “I should go,” he said, sitting up and beginning to button his shirt again.

  Wait, what? I’d thought we were just getting started, and now he wanted to leave? I wanted to argue, but I was still too boneless with pleasure to find the words.

  He chuckled, and with impressive expertise, retied his tie without a mirror.

  I sat up and, feeling a little self-conscious being completely naked while he was fully dressed, pulled a blanket off the back of the couch to cover myself. Wrapping myself in it, I followed Liam to the door. I wondered if I’d done something wrong, if there was a reason he was bolting before I’d had a chance to return the favor or take things further.

  He kissed me.

  “I’ll call you,” he told me.

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Really?” I asked, only half kidding. “You’re sure you don’t want to just ignore me at Rascals like you’ve been doing since our last encounter?”

  His face was sheepish. Busted.

  “I’ll call,” he promised.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he left.

  10

  Juliet

  The next few days were a whirlwind of sexy texts from Liam. Between all the promises of things he wanted to do to me the next time we were alone together, he made sure to tell me that he kept planning to come see me at Rascals, but his work was keeping him at the office late that week. I would text him the shrugging smiley face, as if to say, “Your loss, buddy.”

  I tried to play it cool through text, but really, I was dying to see him again. And hopefully, see ALL of him this time. Our sexy time on my couch had awoken a part of me that I didn’t even know was there. A part that really enjoyed sexy foreplay, and now that she was enjoying it, wanted to have it. All the time. Plus, whatever might happen after the foreplay.

  At least today I had a distraction from all my sexy thoughts. I had promised to meet Hayley at the after-school program she volunteered at, to see if teaching a dance class would be a good fit.

  After what had happened at the ballet, I had considered canceling the meeting. The last thing I wanted was to have an emotional breakdown in front of a bunch of students, but in the end, I remembered what Liam had said about channeling anger and letting it move me forward, and even though I wasn’t sure this is what he was talking about, I used it as inspiration anyways.

  Besides, I liked Hayley and I didn’t want to stand her up.

  She was waiting for me outside the school when I arrived. “Nice dress,” she commented, and I was pleased.

  I had gone shopping the other day, making a point to replace some of my tighter black clothes with things more colorful, and that actually fit me. The pink jeans I was wearing were fun and colorful, and I’d paired them with a loose white shirt, knotted at my waist.

  “Ready to check this place out?” Hayley asked, looping her arm through mine.

  I swallowed my nervousness and nodded. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would be fine.

  We headed into the school, which was buzzing with activity. Kids were running through the hallways, all of them looking happy and excited about where they were going. Hayley gestured for me to follow her into one of the classrooms, where a round-faced, smiling woman was standing behind a desk.

  “Hayley!” she greeted us warmly, giving Hayley a hug.

  “Mrs. Schuster,” Hayley said, hugging her back. “This is Jules—the dancer I mentioned.”

  Mrs. Schuster’s expression brightened even more as she turned to me. “Oh yes,” she said. “Hayley has been telling me all about you.”

  I was a little surprised, mainly because I didn’t think that Hayley knew that much about me. After all, I had only been working at Rascals for a couple of weeks, and while Hayley and I had been given the chance to talk and get to know each other, we hadn’t really spent that much time together.

  Hayley looked a little sheepish.

  “I might have done a little googling on you,” she confessed to me. “I mean, I knew who you were, because I love ballet, but I wanted to get some more background.”

  I could only imagine what there was about me online. Hopefully it wasn’t anything embarrassing, and I said as much to Hayley and Mrs. Schuster. They both laughed.

  “Your online presence isn’t something you need to worry about,” Hayley told me. “It’s all very flattering.”

  I doubted that. There had been some pretty scathing reviews of my work in the past, and I knew that there had been plenty of ink spilled about my accident and the end of my career. There had been a few months during recovery where I had been getting calls and emails from local reporters. I had ignored them all, but they had written about me anyways. I was the poor little ballerina,
dominating a slow news cycle. Thankfully, they’d all moved on to something—or someone—else, but those articles were still available online. The last thing I wanted was for Hayley—or Mrs. Schuster—to read them and feel pity for me.

  “Hayley’s told me a lot about this program,” I told Mrs. Schuster, eager to change the subject. “She says it’s the best in the city.”

  Mrs. Schuster smiled. “Well, Hayley is one of our biggest advocates. Without her help, we would never be able to accomplish most of what we do here.”

  Hayley blushed. “I’m just trying to help out.”

  “And you do.” Mrs. Schuster patted her on the shoulder. “You truly do.”

  “Shall we show Jules the dance facilities?” Hayley asked, clearly uncomfortable with the praise she was getting.

  “Of course.” Mrs. Schuster gathered her things and we followed her out into the hallway. “We get the school and all its rooms and equipment after hours. We just have to make sure that we leave everything exactly the way we found it. The students understand this, and they take great pride in cleaning up at the end of the day.”

  Mrs. Shuster led us to the gym, where there was a smaller room off to the side of the basketball court. It was lined with mirrors.

  “This is where we do the dance classes,” she said. “As you can tell, we are currently without an instructor, so when Hayley mentioned that you were a dancer, I’ll have to admit, we were very eager to meet you. Our last teacher moved away a couple of months ago, and we haven’t been able to find a replacement yet.”

  “I’ve never taught before,” I confessed.

  “That’s not a problem,” Mrs. Schuster told me. “Most of our volunteers aren’t teachers either. They just have a passion for art, or science, or dance. That’s what we want to teach the kids—that kind of drive.”

  I nodded. All of that sounded really great to me.

  But I was still a little nervous. Would I be able to teach dance to young adults when I was still trying to deal with the trauma of not being able to dance myself?