by Pamela Ann
Hearing him speak made me queasy, and the inkling to suddenly burst into tears threatened to take hold of me, so I had to take a break from eating. I reached out to drink half of my Malbec, gulping it down as if it was water.
“He’s going to be great! He won’t need a degree for anything!” Edith chimed in, giving Greyson the you-walk-on-water slash I-worship-thee look that was too nauseating to witness.
“You give me too much credit,” he softly murmured towards her.
She giggled before looking across the table, directing her gaze towards Liam. “He’s such an amazing husband. He takes good care of me, you know. I mean, I don’t even have to lift a finger because he does everything. I’m so lucky to have him because a lot of women tried to take him away from me, but none of those wannabes ever succeeded. He loves me that much.”
Liam gave her an odd look. “That’s nice…”
“It so is,” she brightly chirped back, making me want to throw the rest of the wine in her face. But, of course, I didn’t. Instead, I sat there like a good sport, hoping this fiasco was going to end soon.
“I’m not one to cater to every whim and wish, but I’m quite confident to say that Olivia is truly satisfied in all aspects that matter most,” Liam delivered succinctly before taking hold of my hand and kissing the back of it.
My mother interrupted by clearing her throat, smiling directly at Liam and I. “I’m glad to hear that you satisfy her needs and all, but as a mother, I’d rather not hear any more of what you two do in the privacy of your bedroom.” They all laughed. Well, except for Edith’s sour-faced party.
After that embarrassing incident, I focused my energy on finishing every dish delivered to me. From time to time, Liam would touch or kiss my cheek, however I was so distracted and so tense that making a simple conversation was difficult.
Not only that, but I got the feeling Greyson was furious—truly, maddeningly, royally pissed off at me. I hadn’t felt the heat of his stare, though for some bizarre reason, I somehow knew he was. It was as if he had been sewn into every fiber of me, like we were intertwined at a cellular and cosmic level of intimacy. It was disconcerting, yet at the same time, confusing for me.
He had yet to acknowledge me, and maybe in some ways I was waiting for him to so I could spark a conversation, but he never even considered it. An olive branch coming from him was very unlikely. He hated me, of that I was sure.
It was tragic to think that, a year ago, he couldn’t get enough of me as we had celebrated Christmas together after our parents had gone to sleep and he’d slowly made love to me in front of the very same fireplace where he had stood earlier.
It was funny how life could turn out. That, sometimes, even though a relationship was broken, one person couldn’t fathom acting or even pretending to be civilized. Or better yet, maybe they simply couldn’t be bothered with it because they were indifferent.
I knew I shouldn’t care, however I did. There was no mistaking when it came to my feelings towards Greyson any longer.
The more he ignored me, the worse it became for me because my love seemed unconcerned whether he acknowledged me or not. It kept growing abundantly, flourishing steadily with every breath I took.
+++
The Christmas Eve dinner was actually quite fun if you took out Edith and Greyson from the picture. I wasn’t used to seeing her freely touching him without him saying a word about it—the old Greyson would’ve said something snarky that would put her in her place, but this new one didn’t. It seemed like the old one I had known so well had just been a figment of my imagination.
It was about one in the morning when everyone decided to leave after a quick toast of happy Christmas.
Before Liam kissed me fully on the lips, I caught a sight of them about to do the same thing. I knew Liam had done it so I wouldn’t see what happened, but I wasn’t an idiot, I could put two and two together.
Plucking a fresh set of my cotton nightwear out of the drawer, I strolled into the bathroom to wipe my make-up off and brush my teeth clean. Meanwhile, Liam had been in my room the entire time and hadn’t said a word. My mind was a jumbled mess, and asking him if he was okay would take too much effort, so I let us both stay submerged in our own quiet misery.
As I came out of the bathroom, he was still sitting on my bed, looking deep in thought when I decided to sit next to him. I laced my fingers through his own before I brought them to my lips, leaving a kiss on his warm, soft hand.
“Merry Christmas,” I softly whispered before giving him a small smile—a smile that meant effort, a smile that meant I was grateful for everything he had done for me.
“I love you.” He reached out to caress my cheek before giving me a chaste kiss. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he murmured before reluctantly pushing himself off the bed. He then gave me one last, thoughtful look before leaving my room.
Turning off the lights, I went back to bed and situated myself in the middle of it, eyes wide open as I pictured Greyson in my mind. I wished I’d had enough strength to look him in the eye and receive a glimpse of those brilliant golden eyes, even just for a second.
I had missed those captivating depths that used to make my toes curl, caused my heart to gallop and dive with one powerful cutting look, but above all, it used to make me fall at his feet. Those fiery orbs hypnotized me like no one else ever could. It was the power of those eyes and the very man himself, combined with his magnetizing aura that left me breathless.
Maybe it was being here, where everything and anything reminded me of him. This home held so many ghosts it was demoralizing. And what bothered me most was how those ghosts could come to life before my very eyes sometimes. It was like flashbacks, but you were seeing it before you.
Our minds were capable of mind-boggling powers. If my heartbreak could lead me to such lengths of imagination, I wondered how it would be for those who were hell bent on revenge. Our minds were gateways to a world of the unknown, and I sometimes wished I had the power to transport myself to the very beginning in order to change some of the things that had made me miserable today. However, that was wishful thinking.
Enduring this deep, rotting ache was my penalty for playing with fire. I had been warned several times, and yet, I let my body and my heart conquer over me before rationale.
Huffing out an irritated breath, I rolled over to my side to check the time. The bright red light stated it was three o’ six a.m. Great, I was officially suffering from jetlag. Was Liam awake? I was almost positive he was. I mean, if I was having a hard time sleeping, then he probably was the same. Besides, wasn’t he going a little crazy without sex? I knew my mother had made the whole speech about no sex in the house, but we could sneak out and go somewhere else.
Restless and wired, I slipped out of my room and tiptoed across the hall towards Liam’s bedroom. The house was silent with only the hush of the centralized heating system to accompany the eeriness of the early Christmas morning.
Biting my lip, it took me half a minute to get to the door before I gripped the door handle and quietly slipped into his room. It was dark with no light to guide me inside. So I stood there awhile, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I started walking into the room. Liam was fast asleep, looking peaceful, curled on his side with only his boxers on.
Should I wake him up? I questioned myself, wondering if I was that selfish as to rob him of his rest. He had once confessed that travelling made his body clock go haywire, so for him to actually sleep when he was supposed to be sleeping was a good sign.
Defeated, the thought of retracing my steps back into my bedroom made me even more depressed. My legs felt heavy as I came out of his room. Instead of heading straight to where I had come from however I decided to wander downstairs and maybe make a quick stop at the bar so I could find something that would make me less agitated than usual.
The marbled tiles felt cool on my bare feet as I travelled along the hallway. For some odd reason, I found myself in the living room where
everyone had gathered earlier that evening. The twenty-foot tree twinkled before me, giving the house a cozy, holiday vibe. The vanilla, peppermint and cinnamon smell lingered in the house, bringing lightness to my soul, making me feel right at home.
The house was dark, yet the bright lights were lit up all over the house, giving it a warm, glowing feel. Christmas was, after all, my favorite holiday, so I decided I might as well enjoy it because who knew what next year might bring.
It took me about five minutes to wander around the house before I reached the French doors that opened into the garden and towards the pool area, which only meant one thing… the pool house.
Last night, I had been tempted to go there, even stared at it from my window, wondering what it would feel like to go inside and have all those ghosts of my past embrace me, choking me with nostalgia. But tonight, nothing held me back as I made my way towards it, noting the steady beat of my heart as I dauntingly gazed ahead.
The door was unlocked when I pushed it open. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I opened the door, but I wasn’t expecting for it to look exactly the same. The living room was the first thing you saw upon entering his old domain. My eyes scanned the area from his video consoles to his music system, to his couch and the bright artistic paintings he randomly bought from the street artists.
However, what seized me entirely was the smell—it was all him. The scent that I used to nuzzle and bury my nose into. It was a heady, potently sexy musk with a hint of sandalwood and citrus. Standing in the middle of the room, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, breathing him in as much as my lungs would allow it.
God I have missed this so much…
My body slightly trembled as the scent assailed my senses, awakening the deep, panging hunger that had been buried deep inside. It wasn’t the craving of sex, but something so much more. It was something deeper—raw and elemental. It was the smell of home.
Regrets pounded into my conscience bringing me down from the high I had been floating in a second ago.
I wasn’t quite sure what made me open my eyes, but something alerted me. And when I did open my lids, darkness still engulfed me. The only difference was the dark figure standing against the main bedroom door, biding time.
“Liam! Don’t you scare me like that!” I shrieked. “I went into your room earlier, but you were passed out cold. Did you wake after I left?” The hint of a smile could be heard from my voice as I started to walk slowly towards him. “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought you’d like to come and play—I need some release. It’s been too long—” My steps halted when he came closer to meet me.
Only then, with mere inches away, did I realize it wasn’t Liam but him…
We stood there for a second. A minute. Maybe five. Maybe fifteen. I wasn’t so sure because time stood still for me the moment our eyes clashed. It felt like gongs were being smashed together, angels sang from the Heavens, a dam broke, a massive earthquake jolted my adrenaline rush, and that intoxicating feeling of love at first sight rolled into one. In that instant—in that one single moment when our eyes connected—I knew there would be no man who could bring me back to life like he could.
“Grey,” I finally uttered, sounding more of a choked out plea instead of a greeting.
His fiery eyes seemed cautious as if I was an opponent. He seemed caged, and the word indifferent again came to mind. His eyes remained on my face while my eyes dropped, worshipping his boxer-clad body and his honed muscles. His body was defined before, though now he seemed bigger. His body had ripped precision that left me wanting. One brush of my sight was enough to make my body hum like a hungered, wanton woman. Then something caught my eye…
His silver wedding band on his left hand broke my momentary lapse. Was Edith here, too? Fuck. Thank goodness I hadn’t said something idiotic. Because I was about to before I had seen that blasted ring on his finger.
“Goodnight,” I managed to say before I looked away from him.
“Don’t ever step foot in here again.” His voice was loud, threatening.
I spun around to face him. Confusion and hurt contorted my face as I stared at him in shock. “Excuse me?”
His eyes were hard. Ruthless. Punishing. “You aren’t welcome here.”
“Greyson,” I gasped. “Why are you speaking to me this way? I don’t—why are you acting like a total dick? I used to come here and you weren’t bothered by it. I was just curious. I wasn’t prying or going to steal anything. Fuck!”
“That was before—when I liked to chase sluts.”
The word sluts hung in the air as our eyes battled. I could hear the clock tick-tocking in the background before I blinked once. Twice. Then the psycho-bitch in me came out and launched at him.
“How fucking dare you call me a slut! You have no right.” I slapped him before he caught my other hand, caging me in before I used my body to smash against him, wanting to do damage as I used my elbows and feet and whatever I could think of.
Greyson was quick and far stronger than I was, though. I felt utterly defeated when he backed me up against the wall, holding both of my arms down as he breathed down on me like a dragon. If he blew fire, I knew I would be charred right then and there.
“I’m sorry for hitting you. I am, but don’t ever call me names,” I said with every breath I had, braving it out to battle against his fierce eyes and cold demeanor. “I gave myself to you. I’m not a slut.”
“Were you really a virgin? From what I remember, you weren’t really all that innocent.” He sneered at me as if I was some horrid woman he found vile and ugly.
Was this a stupid game he was playing with me? Okay, I’d had enough. He had hurt me enough.
“Let me go.”
“Why? Am I suffocating you?” he taunted, his breath caressing my cheek as I tried to wiggle out of his hold.
Using all my might, I tried to kick and push him away with my fists, but I ended up ripping the fine, thin lace that held the delicate cotton nightdress I was wearing, making me halt in the middle of the struggle. Heaving like a maniac, I looked down and saw the small square barely covering my breast. It was hanging and about to break free from its restraint.
Chapter 14
Liv
I felt his eyes zeroed on them, as if confirming I was one hell of a mighty slut. Ha fucking ha.
“Did you come here to seduce me?” he accused, grating on me some more.
Fuming, my nostrils flared as I glared at him. “If I want to fuck, it sure as hell won’t be with you. I have a man upstairs that’s worth ten of you, so calm the fuck down; your dick is safe from this slut!”
“You were always such a good liar, Olivia.” His voice held something dangerous. “So good… that sometimes I believed it myself.” He let go of my other arm, but he used his upper body to confine me.
I let out a strangled cry when I felt the back of his finger stroke the base of my neck, leaving feather-light trails on my collarbone. “How long has it been since I fucked this horny body of yours, huh?”
Almost nine months.
“I don’t remember,” I lied through my teeth. I truly wanted to tell him to stop, but dear goodness, he felt too good. Even if his touch held hate, I missed him too much to throw this opportunity away.
“You look like a bitch in heat that needs a good fucking,” he sarcastically observed. I was about to tell him off when I felt his hand stroking the insides of my thighs, speeding my heart in an accelerated rate as he inched nearer, making me feel like I was edging closer to nirvana. My head spun from pleasure the second the pad of his thumb pressed on my clit, teasing.
“No underwear… Were you hoping he’d go in your room, creep into your bed and crawl in between your legs and fuck you until you’re awake?”
No, of course not! “Yes, that was the plan,” I challenged him, wanting to push his buttons.
He let out a harsh breath before his thumb hovered on my entrance while he hatefully gazed at me. “How often does he fuck you?”
/> I bit my lip, looking away. How often? I wasn’t sure. I mean, I wasn’t counting it on a daily basis. Besides, it had only been five weeks since I had started anything sexual with Liam. “I’m not sure.”
“Once a day?” He gave me a lethal look that made my stomach drop. “Twice… maybe three?”
I barely nodded, confirming his question.
“You must be pretty loose then,” he cuttingly said, nose flaring. “I don’t fuck loose cunts.” In a heartbeat, he was off me as if I was diseased and he didn’t want to get infected. His immediate withdrawal left me feeling like a whore, as if his words rang true because I let Liam have me whenever he wanted. Tears threatened to show, and I had to blink a few times to make them go away. Why did I have to want him so much? The need to flee was immediate, yet I simply couldn’t go leaving everything like this—hating one another.
He was standing at the window, staring out at the pool when I took hold of my night dress and pressed it against my breasts, slowly walking towards his formidable form.
His back was facing me, but he didn’t make an effort to spin around and face me. My mother had been right—this man, this stranger—was not the Greyson I knew. The other one was sweet, and though he could be callous at times, he never went this far to hurt me, treating me like trash.
“I could only guess why you hate me so much, but I want you to know that I don’t hate you—not like you do. We were friends once, and since our parents are dating, I hoped we’d find a common ground. It doesn’t have to be a friendly one, nor am I hoping it to be a superficial one, but I want us to be civilized at least. We had a brief fling, and we have both moved on since that happened—”
Greyson decided to cut me off then. “Where the fuck were you that day?” he asked cuttingly.
There was no point in telling him that I went there and witnessed them arguing, and how I had found out he was in love with Edith. If he admitted it to me, face to face, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. So to ease my pain and burden, I took the coward’s way out. “I left.”
