by King, Kelsey
I’ve never been to a rooftop party, so I’m not sure what I was expecting, but when the doors of the elevator open and I see just how beautifully everything is decorated, I can’t help but smile. Orbs of light are strung up above, and the tables are decorated with candles flickering light. Everything from the burgundy table clothes to the gold plates and utensils looks expensive. The smooth jazz music that the live band is playing only solidifies the theme; this is a sexy, grown-up gathering to celebrate a new publishing house and its authors.
I see Kristen, the one in charge of Midnight, approach me with a wide smile and a glass of wine in her hands. “Liam! I’m so happy you could make it. We were wondering if you were going to show up. I know how busy you are working on book two.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” I say with a forced smile. I haven’t talked to Kristen all that much, but from what Harlow’s told me, she’s a good boss, if a bit too enthusiastic at times. When she hands me the glass of champagne, I thank her and take a sip.
“Come, come. I have some people I want you to meet,” she says. I follow her toward a group of men and women that are all in the middle of a lively conversation. She introduces me as one of Midnight’s most important authors, and I can’t help but cringe. Intense praise like this never sits well with me. Obviously, I like being told I did well when it comes to my writing, but I’ve had words thrown around like “influential” and “legendary” before. I accept the compliments, but I refuse to fully believe them. I’m just someone that writes. Prolific isn’t ever something I’d consider myself.
For a while, I stand in the semicircle with these people, making small talk and giving small hints about Dirty Little Secrets and its sequel. No one in this group but Kristen and I know what it’s all about and seeing how interested the others are is exciting. When they begin to discuss another topic, I survey the rest of the party, looking for Harlow. She still hasn’t shown up, and I’m starting to worry about her. Did she bail on this? Maybe the entire story about her niece was an excuse to skip the party and avoid meeting in person.
I eventually excuse myself to use the restroom back in the hotel. After I finish up and wash my hands, I pull out my phone and redial her number. I don’t want to bother her, but rather touch base and make sure things haven’t gotten worse.
“Hey,” she answers breathlessly. “I’m so late, I know. I actually just called Kristen to let her know that I’m still with Katie. My brother-in-law is on his way now, so I should be there before ten. Ugh, I feel like such an asshole.”
“Harlow, no,” I say. “You’re not an asshole. Family emergencies are more important than some fancy ass parties for work. I just want to make sure you’re okay, and your niece is feeling a little better.”
“She’s okay, she’s just scared that the bumps all over her are never going to go away. I called in the prescription for her, which is why Andrew is taking so long. I wanted him to pick that up before he got here. Plus, he likes to talk with the doctor himself. Kind of a control freak. Sorry, I’m rambling.”
I chuckle and lean against the bathroom sink. “Your rambling is adorable. Tell Katie I said I hope she feels better. I’m still looking forward to seeing you tonight.”
“Me too,” she says. The words come out like she’s smiling.
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
“Okay.”
My nerves are a little calmer now that we’ve spoken. She’s coming. She hasn’t stood me up yet. Once I regain my confidence, I return to the party and head to the bar for a drink. I order a glass of scotch and take a seat on the stool, sighing. The party’s only just started, and I’m already in need of a break.
Just when I begin to enjoy my drink, I feel an arm drape over my shoulder and smile. Harlow. I turn to look up at her, only, it isn’t her.
“Destiny?” I gasp in shock.
She grins that seductive smile at me that I always loved. She looks fantastic, her dark black hair styled in curls and the plunging neckline on her red gown helping her emit an even more attractive aura. For a moment, I’m too stunned to say anything else but her name. Destiny slides into the seat next to me.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she snickers.
“I… I’m just shocked that you’re here. Why are you here?” The last I heard, Destiny was not only writing for Hart’s biggest competitor, Hourglass Publishing but working on their staff. When we first started dating, she’d just recently gotten a contract from them, and over the years, she’s grown to be one of their most successful authors.
“I have a few friends that are going to be here. Plus, I thought it might be fun to see you again. It’s been a while.” She reaches forward and steals my glass of scotch, finishing the last of it off. With a hand gesture, she orders two more. “C’mon, Liam,” she says to me. “Don’t look so disappointed to see me.”
“I’m not disappointed, it’s just been a long time.”
Destiny and I had a whirlwind of a relationship together. She had a mean side, and I had a sarcastic side and putting the two of them together was a recipe for disaster. On top of that, she was a thrill-seeker. Within our first year together, she grew bored of me, and I grew tired of having to deal with her snide remarks about my writing. I ended things, and though she acted as if she didn’t care, I knew that wasn’t the case. It killed her that someone as “boring” as me could grow tired of her.
“It’s been too long if you ask me. I’m happy that you’re doing well for yourself now, though.” She smiles, placing her hand on top of mine and giving it a squeeze. “You know, I’ve been reading some of your books lately, too. Part of me thinks you should come write for Hourglass. I’ve kind of missed the way you talk about women. You always had this intense combination of admiration and sexual aggression.”
Suddenly things are a lot clearer. It’s not some weird coincidence that she’s come to the same party as me despite working for the rival publishing house. Subtlety was never her strong suit, and it’s very apparent that she’s after me. It’s flattering, but it’s the last thing I want—especially tonight.
“Don’t play shy, Liam,” she says softly, leaning in even closer. I can smell her perfume, still as intoxicating as it was years before.
“I think you have the wrong idea of how this night is going to go, Destiny.” When she wraps a hand around my neck and pulls me in for a kiss, I pull back and look at her intently. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” What little scotch she had from my glass can’t be all she’s had tonight.
“A little. A lot.” She smiles. Then she kisses me again.
Instinctively I pull away and look for a way to escape this situation. I’m really not in the mood to deal with drunk exes at a party I’d much rather not be at anyway. As I look around the room, I make eye contact with Harlow, and my heart stops. The smile on her face falls, and I instantly recognize how this looks. Fuck. No, this isn’t happening right now.
“Harlow,” I start. Before I can say anything else, she turns and storms off, pushing through the crowd of partygoers until she’s disappeared from my sight.
8
Harlow
I'm such a fucking idiot. I used to think that I was pretty smart having gotten into Brown, but tonight it was clear that college had been a fluke. I was stupid enough to believe that Liam wasn't as big of a player as all the men he wrote about even though he based a lot of them on pieces of himself. He was just as big of a playboy as they were, only this time, that flirting had consequences for real people.
Humiliation is the first emotion that hits me like a bucket of ice water. I feel cold and sick to my stomach. Pushing through the crowd aimlessly, all I know is that I have to get away. I need to breathe, take in everything in peace, and get my head back on straight. I am not going to cry at a company event like this. Not with so many authors here. Not with Kristen here. She wanted me to prove that I could be a leader, and leaders didn’t cry over something like this.
I make a be
eline for the bar on the other side of the roof, instructing the bartender to give me the hardest liquor he has in stock. Taste doesn't matter, nor do I care much about the frills that I usually bother with. I need something to burn these feelings away before they bubble over.
I toss back the shot and groan softly, squeezing my eyes. It hurts differently, but it's the kind of hurt that I need to distract me. I order another and put my face in my hands.
I can hear the nasty voice in the back of my head snickering and pointing her finger. I did this to myself. I knew three months ago when Liam and I started this whole thing that I wasn’t supposed to go down this road. It would only lead to more pain and more heartbreak. All I would do was get my heart stomped on. But I followed through with it anyway. I let Liam’s charming nature and his deep, husky voice lull me into a false sense of security.
The second shot stings just as much as the first, but I'm becoming accustomed to it. I motion for another when someone taps on my shoulder. I spin around expecting to see Liam, but instead, I find Kristen grinning.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up!” she exclaims.
I want to ignore her and go back to drowning my sorrows in booze, but I straighten up and force a smile. “Sorry, I had a family emergency, but everything's okay, and I'm here now!”
“I’m so glad you are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you and Liam about how the work has been going.” She glances to her left and her eyes light up instantly. “Speak of the devil, Liam’s right over there.”
“The devil indeed,” I mutter under my breath.
Kristen waves him over, and I grit my teeth, willing myself not to look at him. I don’t know what would piss me off more—to see him look apologetic about that random woman he was kissing or to see him unfazed by it.
“So, I've been reading everything that Harlow has sent over, and I absolutely love it! At first, we weren't so sure about the affair storyline, but it seems like it's working out and the added scenes of guilt that you added make it feel more complex,” she praises.
“Yeah, I think Liam really has a knack for capturing the cheating aspect,” I say, finally finding the strength to look him in the eye. I want him to feel the anger in my words, the sharp, icy dig I've just made.
Instead, he sighs and turns to Kristen. “I'm delighted you like where the story is going. Harlow's a fantastic editor, and she's made this entire process much more enjoyable for me. Normally I hate getting criticism, but she knows her stuff. She has a way of picking up on things and seeing more than what's presented at face value.”
He looks back at me with sincerity, as if he’s saying more than what he’s actually saying. Is this his way of saying “it’s not what it looks like?” Because it looked like he was making out with some woman that was much more attractive than I could ever aspire to be.
Kristen opens her mouth to say something else, but her phone rings before she can. She digs through her purse to find it while excusing herself. Left with just Liam in front of me, I turn around. His hand grabs at my wrist, but I quickly pull it back.
“No,” I say firmly. “Don’t touch me.”
“Please,” he begs. “Just let me explain what happened. If you don’t like what I have to say, you can slap me in the face and tell me to fuck off.”
I want to do both of those right now without even hearing him out, but I can’t make a scene at this party. No one can know that we’re together, and if I start hitting him and telling him to run back to the slut at the bar, people are going to know we have more than just a working relationship. Rather than doing this here in public, I sigh, roll my eyes, and head to the door so we can talk in private.
We head downstairs, stopping when we’re alone in a dim lit hallway. I spin around and look at him hard, waiting to hear whatever bullshit he’s going to try and throw at me. Instead of immediately starting into his explanation, Liam surprises me.
“I’m sorry, Harlow.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry for what happened. I should’ve known talking to her would be nothing but trouble. I didn’t even expect to see her here tonight.”
“Who is she?” I demand. From the sound of it, she's not his date. But this could also be some kind of trick to get me off his back. She could've come with him, and he's trying to save face by talking me down and feeding me lies.
“She's my ex-girlfriend. We dated for a long time, but I broke things off and tried to move on. She's here because we have friends in the same circle, but aside from that, we don't have any connections. I had no idea she'd show up, especially since she writes for Hourglass.”
I wrinkle my nose. Kristen and I have both had bad experiences with that publishing house. “If she writes for Hourglass, then she's stupid to come here.” I hate how petulant I sound, but I can't help it. I'm mad at him, and I'm mad at her, and I'm mad at myself.
“She's not stupid; she's just manipulative. She knew I'd be here, which is why she bothered coming at all. Her excuse that she knows people here is just a cover.”
“So, your ex just shows up at the party to win you back or something?” I narrow my eyes at him. This stuff happens on TV, not in real life. Next, he’d tell me she thought she’d been kissing his long-lost twin who’d been separated at birth.
“I don't know why she came, Harlow, but I know she's drunk, and she came onto me. I wouldn't do anything that could fuck this up for us, especially not at an event like this.”
I try to find any hint of deception in his tone, but Liam seems genuine. It frustrates me more because even though I believe that he's innocent, I still can't help the sting of jealousy that came over me the moment I saw the two of them together. I don't consider myself a jealous person, but seeing how she touched him, how she draped herself over him, I felt myself grow hot and instantly filled with irritation.
“Harlow,” he says, stepping closer and invading my space. I instinctively back against the wall, turning my head and looking down the empty hall. “Harlow, I promise you. I don’t give a fuck about Destiny or anyone else at this party but you. You’re the reason I came all the way out here.”
“I better be,” I say, watching in my peripheral vision as he steps closer again. With his next step, his chest is against mine, and his hand is pressed flat to the wall behind me.
“Is that jealousy I detect?” he asks, quirking up an eyebrow.
“No.” My voice betrays me, and he chuckles deeply. He grips my chin gently and turns my head so that I'm facing him instead of the hallway. Leaning down, he brushes his nose against mine before slowly stealing a kiss.
At first, I stand still, determined not to give into him. But when he tilts my chin and deepens the kiss, I give in, my resolve crumbling, and my stomach fluttering. I've fantasized about this moment for weeks now, but it's even better in person. He tastes of mint and booze, and I groan against his tongue when he begins exploring my mouth.
I grab hold of the sides of his open suit jacket and pull him forward, unable to hold back from my desires. The closeness is too much for me to deny. I have to submerge myself in him completely and let these feelings take me over.
“Fuck,” he growls, deep in his throat. He kisses his way down my neck and over my exposed shoulders, nipping occasionally. “Tell me you want this,” he instructs, his breath hot over my already heated skin.
“I want you.” I pant, closing my eyes and shivering when I feel his hand creep higher up my dress. Impatient, I grab his wrist and drag his hand up higher, over the front of my panties. “I want you, Liam.”
His hand slides under the material and teases me. “Tell me how bad, Harlow. I want to hear you say it.”
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I admit, whimpering when his fingers press inside me. “I’ve been thinking about tonight all week. How you’d feel against me. How you’d feel inside of me. All the ways you’d take me.”
To prove my point, I let a hand fall between his legs and ghost over the front of his slacks. There�
��s a prominent bulge there, his arousal quite apparent. Liam swats away my hand and unzips his pants quickly. The dark look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t care where we are or who might walk in on us. He doesn’t care if we could get caught doing something this reckless. He wants it now, just as badly as I do.
Liam wraps his hands around my legs and lifts me so that my legs circle his hips, keeping one hand under my leg, and using the weight of his body to keep me pressed against the wall, he gives his cock a few slow strokes before dragging the head over my pussy. “This what you want, baby? Want me to bury my dick inside you? Show you how good I can make you feel?”
God, I love how he says baby. So damn hot.
“Yes,” I groan, digging my nails into the fabric on his back. “So, stop teasing me and give it to me. Or are you scared I might not like—”
Liam pushes his cock inside me before I can get the rest of my sentence out. The words get caught in my throat, and all I can do is moan. He clamps a hand over my mouth as he slides the rest of himself inside. Only when he's buried completely does he still his hips. I could melt here and now.
His movements are slow at first, long, fluid motions in and out of me. I tighten my legs around his waist, drawing him closer each time he thrusts inside. I can barely contain the noises I make as he fucks me, and when he begins to move faster, my mouth falls open, and my eyes squeeze shut.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his hand sliding down to tease my clit. “Ride my cock. Does it feel as good as you hoped?”
I open my eyes and meet his as I say, “God, yes.” I want to say more, but the tone of his voice, the way his smile is so self-assured as if he gets off on these compliments, makes me only want to sing his praise and let everyone know how good he feels.
