There was a moment where he held himself still inside her, holding back, letting her release fuel his. And then he joined her, thrusting hard and fast, head buried in that familiar nook of her shoulder, inhaling her scent, his body and hers moving together until they were spent.
He rolled on his back; breathing hard, sweat covering his chest. She immediately curled against him, her arm across his chest, one leg thrown over his hips. Liam ran his fingers through her hair, his body relaxed, his mind wandering. He wanted to drift back into blissful sleep, here with Angela. But he turned, squinting at the alarm clock. Oh, shit.
“I really need to get to the gym, Angela. Frank is going to kill me.” He gently pried her hands away from his chest, sliding out from beneath her leg. She grabbed at him as he climbed out of bed but he pulled away from her hands. A pillow flew after him, hitting him in the legs.
“Come back...” She was sprawled as he’d left her, so very tempting. He shook his head.
“I’m going to take a quick shower...and no, you can’t join me.” He laughed, ducking into the bathroom as the second pillow thumped against the wall.
“Fine. I’ll raid your refrigerator instead.”
“Good luck.” He heard noises from the other side of the door before stepping beneath the hot water, letting it run over his head and shoulders.
He was rinsing the soap from his body when he heard the bathroom door open.
“I said no showers together. I’m late.” He pulled the curtain aside, expecting to see Angela standing naked on the other side. But she was wrapped in the sheet, a strange expression on her face.
“There was a phone call...the machine picked up. I didn’t want to listen, but it was Frank...I couldn’t help it. He said the match is set, you’re...I think he said, on the bill.”
She wasn’t smiling. He shut off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.
“That’s good news, Angela. You know, this is what I want.” He touched her cheek. She looked down, not meeting his eyes.
She nodded. “I know.” Her voice was low, unsteady. Liam pulled her against his chest. He could feel her body trembling.
“It’s going to be okay, Angela. Really. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re all wet.” She sniffled against his chest, her fingers tracing the line of his scar.
“Yeah...I know. Come on.” He led her back to the bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap.
“You’ll be there, right? You’ll come to the fight?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I know this is what you want...and if I’m going to love you, I need to get used to this. But I don’t know if I can watch...I’d be too scared you’d be hurt.”
Liam felt his heart drop. “But...I want you there. It’s...”
“It’s important to you. I know. But I can’t promise that now, okay? I need to think about this.”
Angela stood, walking across the bedroom, picking up her clothes from the floor.
“I think I’ll go home for a bit, but I’ll call you later.” He watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, trailing the sheet behind her.
Liam dressed, his mind whirling in confusion. He was happy, deliriously happy the match was set. But Angela’s reaction tore at him, made his stomach twist with anxiety. He wanted her to be happy for him. But obviously that wasn’t what she was feeling.
After she was dressed, Liam walked her downstairs where the Lincoln was waiting for her. She turned to him.
“Don’t look so worried. I just need a little time to digest all this.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.
“Nothing’s changed between us, Liam. I love you.” When she looked up at him gravely and he thought he saw tears in her eyes.
“I’ll call you. I just want to go home now.” She tilted her face to him and he kissed her hard, not wanting to let go of her. But she gently pulled away from his arms and he opened the car door for her. She slid across the backseat, not looking back at him and he closed the door. The car pulled into traffic and was gone.
*
Liam threw himself into training that day, pushing himself and pummeling any sparring partner Frank put into the ring with him.
“You’re going to have to slow down, Liam. Save something for the match.” Frank was leaning against the ropes, watching Liam’s current partner struggling to his feet, shaking his head. Liam was breathing hard, blood from a cut on his forehead mixing with sweat, running into his eyes.
“Something’s got into you, boy. Not sure what it is; you need to keep that fire going...but don’t burn out. Go home for today. You’re done.”
“No...I don’t want to.” Liam was breathing hard, blood and sweat dripping onto the canvas. “Give me something else to do, anything.”
Frank scowled. “No means no, Liam. Go home. Get some rest. Go find that girl of yours and make up for all the sex you missed with that job.”
It was Liam’s turn to scowl. “Not funny.” He climbed between the ropes, dropping down onto the floor next to Frank.
“Trouble in paradise?” Frank tried for a jovial tone but Liam heard the concern underlying his question.
“She’s not happy that I got the match.” Liam began unwinding the wrappings from his hands, the wet tape spiraling down to the floor. He didn’t meet Frank’s penetrating gaze. Why the hell am I telling him this?
“So it’s her you’ve been punishing today, not yourself.”
Liam looked up, startled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re upset with whatever she said...or didn’t say...and you’re taking out your anger on your opponents and yourself. That’s what I mean...”
Liam’s scowl deepened. He tugged at the tape on his hand, shaking his head. “Fine. I’m punishing her. You practicing pop psychology now? Anything else you want do explain to me about myself?”
“Come here.” Liam was suddenly being dragged by the arm toward the corner of the gym. Frank turned on him, still holding his arm.
“Listen to me. Whatever she’s done...or not done...it stays outside of the gym. You know that. That world out there...” Frank stabbed a finger at the grimy window that looked out onto the sidewalk “...stays out there. You let that get in your head...” Frank tapped Liam on the forehead “...and you’re finished. You think you’re doing great here today but you’re working on pure anger. You’re not thinking, you’re not planning your moves...your timing is shit.”
Frank stopped, taking a deep breath. “Kid, you’re not fooling me. Get it straight with her, or get rid of her. But get your head back in the ring. Now go home.”
On the subway and then on the long walk down Longwood from the subway, Liam thought about what Frank said. Was he mad at Angela? Hell, yeah. Did he want to punish her? He shook his head. Thinking about Angela twisted his thoughts.
He loved her...he’d finally admitted that, to her and himself. And that opened up so much inside him that was confusing, left him feeling raw and vulnerable. Left him scared, of her, of their relationship and, most of the time, of himself.
His cell phone ran as he was turning the corner onto Beck Street, just a few blocks from his apartment. It was Angela.
“Hey...” Her voice was soft, low...vaguely sad. He felt a tinge of something...an emotion he really couldn’t place, maybe had never felt before, flicker through him.
“You okay, Liam? Are we okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good...we’re good.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, can we talk? Please...” He winced at the pleading quality in his voice. She’s reduced me to begging now.
“Yes, Liam. We should. Do you want to meet? Go somewhere for drinks?”
“No, I...come over. I’m almost home and I’m exhausted. I’ll pick up a bottle of wine, or beer...something on the way.” He didn’t want to admit he had no money for drinks.
“I’ll be there in a little while.”
He answered her knock a short time later. She entered
his apartment, stopping just inside the door.
“You want something to drink? I got a bottle of wine...cheap, but it’s wine.” He smiled at her. She nodded, but didn’t return his smile.
He got her wine and himself a beer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, at the end with her legs tucked beneath her.
“Are you okay? You’re acting like you have bad news for me.” He felt his heart thumping erratically in his chest.
“No...I mean, I’m fine. But I’ve been thinking. About the fight...” Her voice trailed off.
“About us?” Liam took a swallow of beer.
“In a sense. I’m scared...petrified something’s going to happen to you. I guess I want to ask if this is what you really want to do.”
“Angela, yes, this is what I want. Always have...since the first time Frank taught me how to hit the heavy bag, how to throw a punch. From the first time I got knocked on my ass, got up and then got knocked down again.”
He stood, walking to the window. The lights of the apartments across the alley were coming on, families coming home, people sitting down to dinner.
“I don’t know how to tell you what this means to me, other than how I already have.” He turned back to Angela. “Unless you have something of your own you’ve been passionate about, been willing to fight for, then you’re not going to understand.”
Angela rose, setting her wine on the coffee table, standing next to Liam. “Actually, you’re the first thing I’ve been passionate enough to fight for, or about...or with.”
He put his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “So now you know...sometimes the thing you fight for fights back.”
“Yes...and now that you’ve said that, remember it. Remember that I will fight for you...and with you. But it won’t change how I feel.”
She turned her face up to his. “I do love you. Remember that too.”
“And I love you, Angela.” He pulled her against him, kissing her in the soft light of the New York twilight.
Later in bed he held her against him, the weight of her breasts warm against his arm. They’d been quiet a long time when Liam started talking.
“Frank said today I was punishing you by taking it out on everyone else around me. I didn’t understand what he meant...but I think I do now. I’m not as brave as you, Angela. I can’t argue with you like you do with me. It scares me. I don’t know how to be angry with someone and not shut down.”
Angela placed her hand over his heart. “It’s trust, Liam. Trust that if you’re honest with what you say and how you feel, I’ll listen. Anger doesn’t mean the end of love. It’s not like I want to fight with you all the time...we have enough things pulling at us as it is. But we both have strong feelings too. And they need to be expressed, and talked about. And sometimes that involves raised voices.”
“I’ll try...the trust thing and the feelings thing.” He shifted in the bed, pulling her against him.
“But now, I just want to go to sleep holding you. Nothing else...just that.”
They fell into a routine; both rising early, Liam going to the gym, coming home late, exhausted. Angela would be waiting for him. She had managed to get the temperamental stove to work and learned to make a few simple meals, which he devoured. They’d go to bed almost immediately, Liam finding release in Angela’s arms.
There were nights, after she’d fallen asleep, where Liam lay awake, exhausted but unable to sleep, amazed at how his life had changed in such a short time. For the first time in his life, he had someone who loved him, someone he loved. His career seemed headed in the right direction. It seemed unreal.
Deep down there was still a part of Liam that believed this would all disappear, Angela would leave and the rest of his life would just all apart.
She told him every day that she loved him, supported him and believed in him. But she had yet to tell him that she would come to see the match. It was the only subject he had begun avoiding with Angela. Anytime he brought it up, she became upset. And that only brought thoughts of her leaving to his mind.
He tried pushing those thought aside, and for the most part, succeeded. But late at night, they’d surface, tugging him back from sleep. He would pull Angela to him, wrap his fingers through hers and clutch her hand until he finally fell asleep.
*
Liam had tried to explain the complexities of amateur and professional events, most of which went right over her head. But he was patient. She thought maybe he believed her questions meant she was accepting the whole idea, rather than trying desperately to just understand.
They’d been lying in his bed one night, Liam restless with that strange combination of pent-up energy and bone-weary exhaustion after a day training. He was lying next to her, nuzzling her neck. She’d been peppering him with questions and he’d finally raised his head, his hands on her breasts, gently kneading them in his strong hands.
“You’re not giving up on this, are you?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes, sighing. She remembered there was a cut above his eye, a gash that made her wince every time she looked at it.
“I want to know you’re going to be safe.” She ran her hands through his hair, shorter now that he’d cut it in anticipation of the match.
“There isn’t always medical staff on hand with the amateur matches. Sometimes there’s an EMT or someone, but not always.”
She felt the blood drain from her face when she’d heard that. It was bad enough he was fighting, but this information had really upset her.
“So if you get hurt, what happens? You just, what, lay there?”
“Angela, nothing’s going to happen except lots of cuts and bruises and I won’t need an EMT for those. Frank can handle that. I won’t even have a cutman...can’t afford one.”
“What’s a cutman?” Angela had an idea and wasn’t sure she wanted it confirmed.
“Pretty much what it sounds like, someone who takes care of cuts, nosebleeds...injuries that happen during the fight.”
He was back at her breasts, kissing them softly, his hands moving down her stomach. She could feel his body against hers, his arousal so very obvious as he pressed his hips against her leg. But her mind was miles away, thinking of all the possible ways Liam could be hurt.
“You said there were all kinds of possible ways for you to get hurt...breaking bones, getting hit in the head or breaking your neck.”
“Um-hum...yeah. I did.” He was tracing a line of kisses down her stomach, his tongue flicking around the edge of her navel.
He looked up at her, his hand moving lower, running over the tops of her thighs. “Can we talk about this later? The answers will still be the same...but I’ll be able to string words together to make sentences. Right now all I can think about is you.”
Liam’s hands were gently spreading her legs apart and as much she thought she wanted to resist, she gave in. He was right...the answers would be the same, now or later.
His breath was warm on her legs, his lips playing over the tender skin of her inner thigh. There was a moment of breathless anticipation, a shiver running through her body and then he was there, his tongue and lips between her legs, his hands sliding beneath her, cradling her like a cup he couldn’t drink enough from.
When she came, it was like a wash of liquid heat through her body, her legs falling further apart, her fingers wound in Liam’s hair. Before she’d finished he moved up her body, sliding himself into her as she rode the last waves of her orgasm. His first thrust into her brought a fresh wave coursing through her, more powerful, and she bucked up against him. Liam thrust hard and fast several times and then he was crying out, his body jerking, his hips pressing forward into her, one hand sliding beneath her thigh. Angela wrapped her arms around him as he shuddered, his face upturned, eyes tightly closed.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight for a moment. They shifted in the bed together, still in each other arms, until they were face to face, Liam still breathing hard.
“I watch you sometimes and w
onder what it’s like, whatever it is you do...however you just keep having one endless orgasm.”
Liam was stroking her face. “I can’t imagine what’s that’s like. I wish I could go there with you.”
Angela smiled at him, shaking her head. “Uh-uh...no. It’s not going to work.”
Liam grinned, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not falling for it then? Can’t derail you with talk about sex? You still want to talk about fighting...okay. We’ll talk about fighting.” He rolled onto his back, arms behind his head.
Angela propped herself on one elbow. “But aren’t you scared? Of being hurt?”
“I don’t like pain, if that’s what you mean. No one does. But it happens. I don’t think about it when I’m in a match or sparring...it happens too quickly. Your reach is off, you hit someone wrong and you break your hand, or you kick wrong and it’s your foot. It hurts, but the adrenaline is rushing through you, there’s a guy across from you trying to hit you...you just do what you’re trained to do. Duck and set up again, and hit and kick. You think about the pain later.”
Angela’s fingers were tracing the scar on his chest. “What’s the worst injury you’ve had?”
He put his hand over hers. “Angela, if you focus on that, that’s all you’ll think about. And it’s not something that you need to worry about.”
“But I do...”
“And I know that. And I appreciate the concern. Really. But just let it go for now, okay? You can talk to Frank if you want. He’s seen more than me.” He had rolled over, taking Angela with him, pinning her to the bed.
“But you can’t have that conversation with him in bed, okay?”
Over the next weeks, Angela’s anxiety had grown, regardless of Liam’s assurances things would be fine. There was a gnawing feeling in her gut and she’d started having trouble sleeping. She and Liam were inseparable when he wasn’t at the gym, and she was spending every night in his tiny apartment.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 29
