He had a way with words, didn’t he?
“I’m also going to make sure you’re safe. I’m losing my father.” He paused, a steely note coming into his voice. “I sure as fuck will not lose you.”
The finality in his tone, his absolute resolve, sank into my bones, and I was insanely glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that part of Liam.
He loved fiercely. Completely. He held nothing back. It was the strongest thing I’d ever felt in my entire life. So when a man like him took that kind of intensity and applied it to protecting what it was he loved… God help anyone who dared get in his way.
“I just want you to know that it’s okay if you want to stay.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. The fact you are even willing to go back there alone is proof enough.”
“I won’t be alone.” I reminded him. “The FBI will be there.”
He made a rude sound, telling me everything I needed to know about his opinion of that.
I stroked his cock, which was hard beneath his jeans.
“You’re teasing me again.”
“It’s only teasing if I don’t plan to do anything about it,” I replied, salacious. My fingers made easy work of the button at his waist and eased down the zipper. A breath hissed between his lips when I ducked beneath his boxer briefs and freed his rigid length.
His skin was silky and smooth under my hands. His hips jutted out toward me with every stoke. Liam moaned in satisfaction, which made my tongue dart out to wet my lips.
Slowly, I worked the jeans and pants down his body, abandoning them when they were around his knees. I sank onto my knees in front of him, and he moaned again.
His dick was pulsating when I wrapped my hand around it again and pulled it away from his body toward my lips. I moistened his head first, licking around and sucking just the tip.
Liam slapped his hand onto the doorframe and widened his stance a little. His free hand went to the back of my head, delving into my hair.
I sucked him deep. His head hit the back of my throat, and he moaned. I loved making him moan. Knowing I had the power to make a man as strong as Liam weak.
I pulled back slowly, my lips hugging his thick length, and then sucked deep again. His fingers tightened against my head, and I began bobbing up and down.
A few incoherent words floated above my head, and I grabbed his hips, pulling them into me and settling his body into a gentle thrusting motion. Liam held the doorframe and fucked my mouth. The feel of him slipping in and then gliding out made my body tremble and moisture slick my panties.
After a few minutes, I pulled back, gazing up the length of his body. He gazed down, silvery eyes nothing but slits. I licked across his tip, staring straight into his eyes.
His flared, no longer slits, but wide, unfocused orbs. Liam moved fast, slipping his hands beneath my arms and lifting. My legs wound around his waist at the same time my back hit the doorframe.
Liam’s mouth descended onto mine fiercely. I barely had time to breathe, but when his tongue stroked mine, oxygen was the furthest thing from my mind.
His hips moved, pushing his body into mine and teasing my core with his firm cock.
Pulling away from the doorway, Liam carried me across the room and laid me on the bed. My pants were ripped away. The sound of a packet tearing was brief, and then he was inside me.
Liam still stood at the side of the bed, my legs wrapped around his hips. Half of me was draped on the bed; the other half was suspended in the air while he pushed into me again and again.
A sound ripped from Liam’s throat. His hand went between my legs to stroke my swollen clit. My body arched up off the bed, an orgasm instantly cleaving through me.
Liam shoved deep as his body jerked, his own pleasure spilling out.
My legs turned to Jell-O and slid from around his hips. He caught the backs of my thighs and held me up so I wouldn’t slip right off the bed. Liam scooted my body up onto the mattress, then slowly eased out of me.
“We need to leave for the airport in an hour.” I liked the way he stroked the inside of my thigh as he spoke.
“I’ll finish packing.”
“I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
I nodded and then lay across the bed and watched his naked, tight ass waltz into the bathroom.
“I saw you looking,” he called out when he was in the bathroom.
“Damn right I was!” I called back.
His muffled laughter floated out through the open door.
When the sound of the shower reached me, I sighed and pushed up off the bed. That had been a nice little distraction, but it was over too soon.
My eyes strayed to my suitcase and Liam’s open duffle. Then I glanced around the bedroom and marveled at how quickly this place had become my home. How the place I was flying to in Chicago felt like a stranger’s apartment where I’d left some of my clothes.
Anxiety and fear trickled in, drowning out some of my own thoughts and replacing them with ones I hated. With a dry mouth, I gazed toward the bathroom where Liam was singing horribly in the shower.
My heart seized, and an overwhelming urge to run came over me.
It was stupid. I didn’t want to run. Hell, I didn’t want to go anywhere.
You didn’t want to come to BearPaw at first either. The wicked voice in my head reminded me.
Screw you! I answered.
I swear the echo of a laugh bounced around the back of my skull. I had a sudden thought of the giant spider tattoo on the back of Spidey’s neck.
My movements were quick and wooden. I hated what I was doing, but I had to do something to try and calm the panic rising inside me. In the corner of the room, I stood over the “emergency” duffle that had remained in my closet, packed and ready to go for so long.
Many of my emergency supplies were still in there because I’d bought myself other items. Almost on autopilot I added a few more things, including a change of clothes. Next, I lifted out the wrinkled old envelope my father had given me and glanced at the cash inside. There wasn’t as much as there used to be.
But it would be enough.
At least until I could close out my accounts in Chicago.
I pulled out a few bills for the travel we were about to embark on and then zipped the rest up with the rest of my supplies inside that awful old bag.
In the bathroom, Liam stopped singing, and the absence of his voice haunted me. Seconds later, the shower shut off.
I picked up the duffle and carried it out of the bedroom, padding down the hall and toward the coat closet near the kitchen. I tucked it on the top shelf near the corner, then stood staring up at it. I resented that bag and everything in it. Everything it represented.
Still, life’s hard lessons had taught me to be prepared.
This might be my home now. It might even be next week.
But I wasn’t naive enough to think it might be forever.
Liam
When we landed in Chicago, the police were waiting. I didn’t need to be told the seriousness of the situation, but getting a police escort to Bellamy’s old apartment definitely hammered it home. This wasn’t just any ordinary help your girlfriend move into your place scenario.
Nope.
My girl had to go the extra mile to set herself apart from every other woman on this planet.
Part of me wondered if having the police drive us around was just shining a light on the target already on our backs. Just because it was an unmarked car and the detectives were wearing suits, not badges, didn’t make them any less inconspicuous. At least to the mob. I kept those thoughts to myself, though, because I didn’t want to make her any more nervous than she clearly already was.
I’d been to Chicago before, but being here now was sort of like seeing it for the first time. Knowing this was where Bellamy had spent the past year of her life had me looking at everything we passed and wondering if she’d been there and where I’d been when she had. For the first time, I had an inkling of understanding abou
t how she confessed sometimes she felt she didn’t know me. I sort of felt like a ghost rattling around in her past, looking for details I didn’t know.
“That’s where I used to work,” she said, her voice subdued, and pointed out the window to a tall building with mirrored windows.
“Yeah?” I said, staring at the cold structure. I couldn’t imagine her trudging into that place every morning in a pair of heels and a suit. It wasn’t her. Not at all.
I felt her nod. “On the second floor.” As we continued past, she said, “I should probably tell them I won’t be coming back.”
“It’s taken care of,” the detective in the front seat commented.
My jaw tightened. I didn’t like having them here. I didn’t want to experience any of this with strangers and prying eyes watching us like hawks. I didn’t want Bells to feel she had to contain any personal thoughts or feelings because we weren’t alone.
The detective who wasn’t driving extended a white envelope into the back of the car.
Bells took it, and asked, “What is this?”
“It’s your final paycheck. They added it to the box of your things we had the officers go and pick up.”
“Oh,” she said, tucking the envelope into her lap without bothering to open it. The law firm’s name was stamped in the corner.
“The rest of your stuff is at your apartment. I didn’t want that just lying around.”
“Thank you,” Bellamy replied. Her gaze turned back to the window. “That market has good ingredients,” she murmured.
I grabbed her hand, lacing our fingers together. “What’s your favorite thing to make, Bells?”
She glanced around. “What?”
“I’ve never asked you. What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“Alfredo,” she responded almost instantly. Then she smiled. It was the first smile I’d seen since we got off the plane. “White pepper is my secret.”
Impressed, I asked, “You make the pasta, too?”
“With the right appliances, I can.”
I tapped the side of my head. “I’m making a list up here, sweetheart. Of all the stuff I expect you to make me when we get home.”
Ducking her head, she smiled. I gave her fingers a little squeeze. I’d do anything to make her smile. Anything to give her a moment of relief.
I just hoped she really was a good cook. Otherwise, I was going to be eating a lot of shit I didn’t like.
And I wouldn’t complain about one bite.
We turned into a parking garage, and the interior of the car became dim and shadowed. Bellamy stiffened instantly. The car slowed to roll through the garage carefully. My eyes searched every inch we passed. Just because we were with the cops didn’t mean I trusted them to protect us.
A real man didn’t allow someone else to protect what was his. A real man did it himself.
The detective parked near the elevators.
I got out of the car, once again scanning the area around us. Once I knew it was safe, I leaned back into the open door and held out my hand. “Come here.”
Bellamy slid across the seat and put her hand in mine. I didn’t leave much room for her, so when she unfolded from the car, her body was pressed close, and I crowded around her, using my own body as a shield.
We went with the two detectives to the elevator. Inside, Bells hit a button for her floor, and we all rode in silence.
The men stepped off first, and when they nodded everything was clear, we moved into the hallway. Even though I walked ahead, I knew which apartment was hers because there was a uniformed officer standing outside the door.
Bellamy’s feet stuttered. “I don’t have my keys.” Her eyes were a little too wide for my liking. “I ran out without them.”
I smoothed a hand down the back of her head. “It’s okay.”
Without saying anything, one of the detectives pulled out a cell and hit the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. “It’s Detective James. We’re upstairs. We need you to come let us in the apartment.” He listened a moment, then ended the call.
“The building manager will be right up,” he told us.
We all stood there awkwardly, not speaking. Bellamy’s eyes were fixed on the yellow crime scene tape covering her door. A minute later, a man with thinning hair entered from the stairwell, stepping into the hall. He had on dark-brown khaki pants and a striped sweater. He gazed at me, clearly not expecting to see Bellamy with a man. But then his eyes went to her and narrowed.
“How nice of you to come back.” His voice was annoyed and sort of haughty.
“I’m sorry for the trouble, Mr. Ray,” Bellamy replied quietly.
“You’re behind on your rent,” he snapped, moving toward the door.
The keys in his hand jingled when my hand shot out and gripped his shoulder. He made a surprised sound, wide eyes shooting to my face. “Wha—”
“I don’t like your tone.” I warned him. “You’re going to need to show a hell of a lot more respect the next time you even look in her direction.”
The man blustered and looked at the officer standing close by. “You’re going to let him threaten me?”
I smiled, a nice toothy grin. “No threat,” I said, releasing his shoulder and brushing some invisible lint off his sleeve. “Just letting you know a little bit of understanding toward a woman who fled your building to avoid being murdered would go a long way.”
The man glanced at the officers again. Red spots bloomed over his cheeks.
“Open the door.” The detective pointed at it.
Mr. Ray cleared his throat and did as he was told.
Bellamy started forward when the door swung in, but I put a palm against her chest and shook my head. Then I gestured for the detectives to go.
They drew their guns and moved in to sweep the place.
A few minutes later, they came back. “All clear.”
I went ahead of her, holding my arm out to keep her behind me.
“They just checked the place.” She reminded me. Her voice wasn’t nearly as sturdy as it should be.
I made a rude sound. “I’m still going to be careful with you.” I glanced over my shoulder and gave her a look. “You should already know that, sweetheart.”
Once I was down the short hall, past the kitchen, and standing near the small island that looked over the living room, I turned. The detectives and the landlord were all standing inside.
“Think we could have a minute?” I asked.
“We’ll be right outside.” The officers nodded and left.
I settled my gaze on the landlord, who was standing there like a lump. “This really isn’t her apartment anymore.”
I stalked over to him. He slunk back because he was easily intimidated. “How much?” I barked.
He jumped. “What?”
“How much is the rent?”
“Twelve hundred.”
A disgusted sound ripped out of me. “For this box? That’s highway robbery.”
He stiffened. “It’s Chicago. And I’ll have you—”
I held up my hand. “Stop talking.”
His mouth slammed shut.
Reaching into my jeans, I pulled out a money clip stuffed with cash. Retrieving two five hundred-dollar bills and a pair of hundreds, I held out the cash.
He glanced between me and the money.
“Take it,” I said, impatient. Once it was in his hand, I pointed at the door. “Now get out.”
He rose to his full height, which was still shorter than mine. “I’ll be in the hall.”
I folded my arms over my chest and glared. He left.
The second the door clicked shut, I turned and nearly collided with Bellamy. “Shit,” I swore, grabbing her shoulders to steady myself. Instantly, I pulled back from the injured arm. “Did I hurt you?”
“My arm is fine.” She promised.
She had more range of motion now. I wanted her to wear the sling on the plane, but she refused. Little did she know I stuffe
d it in her suitcase.
“What’s wrong?” My gaze narrowed on her face.
“You just paid my rent.”
I blinked. “So?”
“So that’s my responsibility.”
“You can pay me back.” I lied.
She gave me a look that called me out on said lie.
I took her face, stroking my thumbs lightly over her cheeks. “You can be mad at me if it makes it easier to be here,” I said gently. “I’m man enough to take it.”
Her body slumped. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I know.” Pulling her into my body, I hugged her.
She was rigid at first, but then she began to relax. A moment later, she pulled back, visibly fortifying herself.
“The last time I was here, someone tried to shoot me.” She pointed into the kitchen, near the stove. “Right there.”
Bellamy moved past, went to the stove, and dropped down on hands and knees. Delving her fingers under the appliance, she pulled out a phone.
“Right where I left it.” She held it up. Bellamy set the phone on the counter and gazed around.
There was a pan on the floor, partly propped against the lower cabinet. Dried food (looked like vegetables) were scattered around, and an oily substance dotted difference places on the floor, counter… everywhere. When her eyes landed on the island, she frowned.
“What?”
“Those bastards took my wine!” she said. “That was good wine, too.”
I tried not to smile. “I’ll get you a new bottle of wine.”
She made a sound and left the kitchen, avoiding the food scattered about. “So this is my place.” She motioned to the living room. “Bedroom and bathroom are through there.”
It was small, kind of impersonal. Not at all the way I would expect her home to look. The furniture was basic, but there were a few throw pillows in different colors around the room. And a fuzzy blanket.
“The apartment came furnished. I added the pillows to try and make it feel like home.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
“No.”
Blizzard (BearPaw Resort #2) Page 10
