Liam

by Kate Hoffmann

  They stayed like that for a long moment and Liam watched as a smile curved the corners of her mouth. He felt the knot tighten and he reached between them and touched her. Ellie’s smile intensified and she began to move, slowly at first and then with greater abandon.

  Liam’s pulse pounded in his head and he lost himself in the feel of her body, the wet heat driving him closer and closer to his release. Every thought was focused on their joining, every nerve poised to explode. He wanted to possess her, completely, to touch her soul and share her release.

  Though instinct drove him, Liam was still acutely aware of what he was feeling. And it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Their joining was beyond just two bodies engaged in the heat of the moment. They’d stripped away the barriers and they were two souls merging into one.

  Ellie moaned softly, then murmured his name. Liam knew she was near her own orgasm and he wanted to wait and experience it before taking his own release. But then she was there, contracting around him, and Liam knew he couldn’t wait.

  He murmured her name, spanning her waist with his hands and driving into her one last time. His release was so shattering, so intense, that he wasn’t sure it would ever end. Spasms of pleasure rocked his body and he lost all sense of who he was and what he was doing.

  And when Ellie finally collapsed on top of him, he ran his fingers through the hair at her nape and tried to slow his breathing. It had never, ever, been like this before. He wanted to tell her that, to make her understand what they had shared, but he couldn’t find the words.

  “You’re the kind of man my grandmother warned me about,” Ellie murmured, nuzzling her face into her neck.

  “And what kind is that?”

  She pressed her palms against his chest and smiled down at him. “The kind of man who makes me forget what a good girl I am.”

  “You are a good girl,” Liam said. “But you can be very, very bad.”

  Ellie giggled. “And I can be a lot worse. Just give me a few minutes to recover.”

  SHE FELT HIS LIPS on her shoulder and then on her neck. Ellie slowly opened her eyes to the morning light. Liam lay next to her in bed, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. A tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth as she stared into his eyes. “Morning,” she murmured.

  “Morning,” he said, stealing a quick kiss.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after nine. Go back to sleep.” He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “God, you’re pretty in the morning.”

  Ellie felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. She knew quite well what she looked like in the morning and he was definitely too charming for his own good. But then, that’s what she loved about Liam. He made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “Until I brush my hair and have my first latte, I’m a monster,” Ellie teased.

  “Then I better go out and get you coffee. I’ll bring us something to eat, too.”

  “Maybe I’ll take a shower.”

  Liam grabbed her waist and rolled on top of her, pinning her hands at her sides. Then he kissed her softly. “If you wait for me, I’ll wash your back.”

  “Deal.”

  He kissed her again, then scrambled off the bed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Ellie watched him leave, then moaned, turning her face into Liam’s pillow. Last night had been so wonderful. She’d known it would be. How could it be anything else but mind-numbingly incredible with a man like Liam Quinn? He was so beautiful and sexy, and the things he’d done to her were just so…

  She moaned again, then bolted upright, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She’d be waiting for Liam when he came back, but at least she had time to brush her teeth and comb her hair. She hopped out of bed and grabbed the Patriots jersey, tugging it over her head. Then she found her cosmetics bag and headed to the bathroom.

  But instead of opening the second door on the left, Ellie opened the first and stepped into a room lit only by a red bulb on the far wall. She quickly turned around to leave, but then her curiosity got the best of her. Photos hung from wires stretched above tables and the single window in the room had been painted black. This was Liam’s darkroom!

  Her curiosity piqued, she walked inside. Photos plastered the walls and she stared up at the odd mix of images, hoping to find some piece of Liam in each. His portraits of everyday people were the most striking-waitresses, garbage men, traffic cops. She’d viewed photography in art galleries in New York and Liam’s work was as good as any she’d seen there.

  He was talented, and from the photos, she could see a tiny bit of his soul. He saw something through the lens that an ordinary observer would never see, a beauty in the simplicity of everyday life, an honesty that spoke more of him than his subjects.

  She turned to examine the photos hanging from a wire above the table. They were strangely distant and a bit unfocused. Leaning closer, she tried to figure out what made the photos so special. And as she looked, a sick feeling twisted in her stomach. Ellie snatched a photo from the wire, then walked to the door and flipped the light switch.

  “Oh, my God,” she murmured. This was not a photo of an everyday Bostonian. This was a photo of her! In her robe! In her bedroom!

  She hurried back to the table and began to pull each photo off the wire. Each was of her, some of her in her apartment, some of her in front of her building, ranging in various states of dress and undress. For a long moment she couldn’t take a normal breath. Her mind was numb and her heart had ground to a stop. Liam Quinn might be a very talented photographer, but he was also a sick, perverted, peeping Tom!

  Ellie sucked in a long and ragged breath, that action serving to galvanize her. She raced around the darkroom, grabbing every photo and negative that even resembled her, determined to steal the last image from his possession. When she was finished, she headed for the bedroom.

  She’d been so damn concerned about her safety that she’d never even recognized the true danger. In less than two minutes she’d dressed, packed her bag and snatched up the pile of photos and negatives from the end of the bed. Then the front door creaked and she heard footsteps in the living room. Ellie groaned softly. She’d wanted to leave without having to confront him. After all, a guy who took covert pictures of a woman might be downright dangerous. She’d tear up the photos, toss the scraps in his face and walk out, adding a threat to call the police if he ever came near her again. “That will do it.”

  But when she reached the living room, Liam wasn’t there. His brother Sean was. He seemed surprised to see her, considering that he’d known she’d be spending the night. Ellie stalked up to him and waved the photos under his nose. “I want you to tell that sick, psycho brother of yours that I know what he’s up to. If he doesn’t want to end up locked away in jail or some mental hospital, he’d better stay away from me.”

  Sean opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. “Okay,” he said.

  She stuffed the photos into her bag, yanked open the door, then made sure to slam it behind her. But when she reached the sidewalk, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. She didn’t have a car, there were no cabs or buses in sight, and she really wasn’t sure exactly where she was.

  “I should have never come to Boston,” Ellie muttered as she hiked down the street. “I should have stayed in New York, kept my job there and put up with Ronald Pettibone. This whole move has been cursed from the start.”

  It hadn’t been so difficult to get over the two break-ins, the near hit-and-run, or the brick incident with Liam Quinn around as a consolation prize. But now she had no choice but to add him to the list of disasters that had plagued her since she’d come to Boston.

  “I can’t believe I trusted him,” Ellie murmured. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “I can’t believe I slept with him.” Her track record with men had gone from terrible to downright pathetic. She’d vowed to take time away from romance, to give herself a chance to recover. But Liam Quinn had b
een so sweet and so charming and incredibly heroic.

  As Ellie walked she began to look at the events of the past few weeks in a different light. Yes, he’d come to her rescue so many times. But maybe he’d set it all up simply to get her into bed. “Oh, yuck,” Ellie cried. “He could be a sleazy creep as well as a sick psycho and a demented pervert.”

  She quickened her pace, following the sound of traffic toward a main street. When she finally saw an elderly couple strolling down the sidewalk, she hurried up to them. She explained where she wanted to go and they pointed her in the direction of a nearby thoroughfare, directing her to take the number nine bus to the Broadway T stop. Ellie assured them that she could find her way home once she got downtown.

  But when she got on the bus, Ellie wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to her apartment. Maybe she just ought to leave Boston-leave everything-behind and start over someplace new. She could go to Chicago or San Francisco. She could even go back to New York. She had friends there and the job prospects would be better. And she’d just slip back into her old life-minus Ronald Pettibone, minus all men. She had her purse and all her credit cards. She could replace everything in her apartment.

  Ellie turned the notion over and over in her mind. It could work. And she’d certainly avoid seeing Liam Quinn again. She stared out the window of the bus at Monday morning traffic. Maybe it was time to find another place to start over.

  LIAM KICKED OPEN the front door and stepped inside, Ellie’s latte and his large coffee balanced in one hand, the paper bag of doughnuts clenched in his teeth. He yanked his keys from the lock, then closed the door behind him. As he walked into the living room, he was surprised to find Sean pacing back and forth in front of the sofa.

  “Morning,” Liam said, letting the bag drop onto a nearby table.

  “Morning.”

  “I didn’t realize you were here. I would have brought you coffee. When did you get in?”

  “A few minutes ago,” Sean said.

  “Any news on Pettibone?” he murmured.

  “None so far.”

  Liam headed toward his bedroom. “Well, I’d love to hang around, but I’ve got breakfast to deliver.”

  “She left,” Sean called.

  Liam stopped short, then slowly turned. “She left? What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing. But she had a lot to say about you. From what I can figure, she wandered into your darkroom.”

  Liam groaned, then cursed. “I don’t have to ask what she found in there.”

  “What did she find?”

  “I developed the photos that I took from the attic window and they were…very…revealing.”

  “Naked?” Sean asked.

  “No. What do you think, I’m some kind of pervert?”

  “She does. And she thinks you’re a psycho. A disgusting worm of a man.”

  Liam closed his eyes and groaned. “She said that?”

  “No, but I’m sure that’s what she was thinking. Jaysus, Liam, could you have screwed this up any worse?”

  Liam aimed the bag of doughnuts at Sean’s head and pitched it as hard as he could. But Sean’s reflexes were too quick and he caught it. “Thanks. I’m starved.”

  “I’ve gotta go find her,” Liam said. “I have to explain.”

  “You’re not going to tell her the truth.”

  Liam shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m going to say. But I’ve got to find some way to explain.”

  “You really like her, don’t you?” Sean said.

  Liam pulled his keys out of his pocket, then headed to the door. “That’s a major understatement,” he muttered.

  He drove from Southie to Charlestown in record time, weaving in and out of traffic as he tried to decide what to say to Ellie. His first impulse was to come clean, to tell her everything and to hope that his instincts about her were right. But if they weren’t, Liam knew she’d have no choice but to run. And then he’d never see her again.

  With every other woman in his life, it had always been easy, a take-it-or-leave-it kind of affair. But Ellie was different. She made him feel confused and excited and frustrated and satisfied all at once. And when he thought about her walking out of his life, he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Liam had been in love with a lot of women-at least he thought it had been love. But it didn’t even come close to what he’d come to feel for Ellie in just a very short time. Was this real love, this crazy, wild, disturbing feeling that he had whenever he was with her?

  They’d known each other less than two weeks. People didn’t fall in love that fast, Quinn family curse or not. Memories of all his father’s tales of the Mighty Quinns drifted through his mind. Seamus Quinn had warned all of his sons about the dangers of succumbing to the powers of a woman. And for the first time in Liam’s life, he understood what his father had been talking about. There was every chance in the world that this would end badly and that he’d end up with his heart in shreds.

  He couldn’t avoid the reality. Next month, Ellie Thorpe could be on trial for embezzlement. And the month after that, she could be in jail. Maybe that’s what made it easy to fall for her. In the back of his mind, he knew it might end at any minute.

  Liam parked the car in front of Ellie’s building in Charlestown and hopped out. He took the front steps two at a time, then pushed the security buzzer, saying a silent prayer that she’d let him in. But the buzzer went unanswered. Either she was in her apartment avoiding him, or he’d beaten her across town. “Or she’s already in the wind,” he murmured. With a soft curse, he sat on the step, determined to wait.

  He’d only been waiting two or three minutes when it began to rain-a cold, stinging, spring rain. Liam pushed up from the steps and jogged across the street. He’d wait for Ellie in the attic, and when she came home, he’d have all of his explanations in order.

  As Liam unlocked the front door and climbed the stairs, he couldn’t help but rewind the previous night in his head. He and Ellie had been so good together. It was as if her body had been made especially for him. Every curve, every sweet inch of flesh, was sheer perfection in his eyes. He could still feel her skin beneath his hands, her hair between his fingers, the warmth as he moved inside of her. And, even now, he craved it all again.

  Liam pushed open the door to the attic and stepped inside. The room was as cold and musty as he remembered, the windows still grimy. Sean had left his video camera set up at the window and Liam strolled over and focused the camera on Ellie’s apartment. He thought about the first time he’d stood in the window and watched her, wondering who and what she was. And now he felt as if they’d been destined to meet, as if some power greater than the both of them had conspired to put him in this attic and her in the apartment across the street.

  He pulled the old chair up to the window and sat, determined to wait until she returned. But as an hour passed and then another, Liam started to worry. Maybe she’d run. She could have called Ronald and the two of them could have decided that it was time to go.

  Liam fought back a surge of frustration. He knew in his gut she wasn’t an embezzler, but his brain still managed to come up with enough doubt to make him wonder. He cursed softly, then fixed his gaze at the end of the street. The longer he waited, the more foolish he felt.

  And then he caught sight of someone coming around the corner. He recognized her from the way she moved, the quick, determined stride. He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Though he’d spent the past two hours trying to figure out how to explain, suddenly Liam wasn’t sure he could make it all sound right.

  Hell, what did he have to lose? If she really was a criminal, then his explanation didn’t matter. And if she wasn’t, then he’d already screwed it all up so badly, it would likely never be fixed. She’d never trust him again.

  He watched her start up the front steps to her building. And then she stopped. Slowly she turned around, her gaze rising up the building he now stood inside. Even from that distance, he could read her expr
ession. She’d seen the photos and now she was wondering about his vantage point. Liam’s breath seized in his throat and he waited.

  His first impulse was to step back from the window, but instead he pulled the tattered curtain aside so she could see him, offering her a challenge and praying that she’d accept. She slowly crossed the street. When he heard footsteps on the stairs, Liam turned to face the door. It swung open a few seconds later and Ellie stepped inside.

  She looked so beautiful-her hair wet, her color high-and so damn angry. Her eyes glittered with rage, her gaze suddenly fixed on the video camera at the window. She slowly crossed the room and pushed the curtains aside, the room flooding with light. Leaning forward, she looked through the viewfinder. “You must have a very nice little collection,” she said. “Photos and video.”

  “It’s not what you think, Ellie.”

  “Oh, no? You have no idea what I think.”

  “I can imagine,” Liam said. “But it’s not that bad.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Ellie said, tears filling her eyes. “Because it looks really bad to me. It looks like you’ve been spying on me-and taking pictures-invading my privacy-like some kind of pervert!” She snatched up the video camera, tripod and all. “What kind of pictures were you taking? Should I expect them to end up on some Internet site? Or are they just for your private enjoyment?”

  Liam’s heart twisted. He’d never been good around emotional women. And once they started crying, he was completely at a loss for words. “Ellie, if you’d just-”

  “I trusted you. I let you into my house. And into my body.” With a soft curse, she heaved the camera and tripod out the window, the glass shattering and falling to the street below.

  Liam winced. “That wasn’t my camera,” he said. “That was Sean’s. But I guess that really doesn’t make a difference, does it?”