Liam: Lost Breed MC Series, Book 10

by Parker, Ali

  He was so drool-worthy.

  Hollywood-worthy, too.

  Liam wrapped both hands around my hips to reach behind me and give my ass a good firm squeeze. I giggled into his mouth and felt him smile in return. Then he pushed me away, spun me around, and tugged me back into him, somehow managing to finish with both hands still on my ass.

  He squeezed again while he nudged my hair to the side with his chin so he could press his cheek to mine. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are, woman?”

  My panties were goners. I pinched my knees together and arched my back to press my ass into his crotch.

  Oh yeah. A serious panty melter.

  I reached back to cup the back of his neck and sink my fingers into his thick black hair. My breath rushed between my lips as my pulse thundered in my ears. The pressure of my very tight dress on my nipples was almost intolerable.

  Liam left a trail of light kisses down the side of my neck and across my shoulder. My eyes practically rolled back in my head as I lifted my face up to the ceiling to lean more heavily against him. He chuckled deeply. I could feel the vibration of it in my back as he ran his hands over my hips and across my tummy, where he tugged and pulled gently at the fabric of my dress.

  Then his touch wandered around behind me, and he fished for the zipper of my dress and, inch by inch, began drawing it open.

  My skin was on fire. Every inch of my body screamed for him as my brain went on autopilot. His knuckles grazed the bare skin on my back as he drew the zipper all the way down to where it ended right above my ass, where he slipped both hands under the fabric to run them down my bare ass.

  “No panties?” he asked in my ear. “I didn’t expect that. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  I tried to think of something clever or sexy to say, but my mind drew a blank. The only reason I didn’t have panties on was because this dress was so damn tight, it showed every line and crease of any undergarment.

  That was also why I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the only thing between him seeing my complete and total nakedness was the white fabric that barely clung to my shoulders.

  I turned back toward him and rested my hands lightly upon his chest. I could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath my right palm as if it was dancing in unison with mine. Then slowly, he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head with one hand. The thin fabric of his tee whispered under my palms until it was gone, and all I could feel was hot smooth skin pulled tight over swollen, thick muscle.

  I swallowed. “Wow.”

  Liam was, for sheer lack of a better expression, a work of art.

  His shoulders were thick and chiseled, giving way to defined biceps and triceps that were hidden under snaking tattoos that reached nearly down to his wrists on both arms. His abs looked as if they were carved out of flesh-colored stone. A dark trail of hair wove around his navel and plunged beneath the waistband of his jeans between hip bones that created a perfect V that already made my toes curl.

  I watched, paralyzed by his magnificence, as he undid his belt. The buckle jingled and the leather hummed when he pulled it out of his belt loops. Then he popped open the button of his fly with his thumb and drew down the zipper.

  I licked my lips and reached for him as he went to pull down his pants. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  Our lips met in a frenzy of exploratory kisses. We tasted every crevice of each other as I began walking backward, pulling him along with me with one arm hooked around his neck. His jeans slid down his hips as he walked, and soon, he was half waddling, half stumbling after me, but neither of us had half a mind to stop and take the pants off.

  We kept going until the back of my legs hit the side of the sofa.

  When we broke apart, neither of us could catch our breath. Liam slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders. Had it not been so skintight, it might have slid down. But it stayed in place.

  I took over, hooking my thumbs in the top of the dress and drawing it down, exposing my tits first. They sprang free from the confines of the dress, which made them look a lot smaller than they were. Having big boobs at a club could be a real bitch sometimes. For starters, they were in your way, and secondly, they attracted too much attention. I preferred to keep them a little strapped down on nights where I was out dancing.

  Liam didn’t wait for me to have the dress all the way down before he descended upon my breasts with eager hands and a greedy mouth. He drew my nipple into his mouth, suckling gently and flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub as he worked back and forth between the two. As he kissed and licked and nibbled, I wiggled my hips and pulled the dress down the rest of the way until it fell around my ankles.

  I stepped out of it, and Liam took his first look at me.

  He rubbed the back of his head as his eyes wandered up and down the length of my body not once, not twice, but four times.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered.

  I reveled in the attention. I knew the effect I had on men. I worked hard for this body, and I treated it right. On a daily basis, I was the one who reaped the benefits. But tonight, it was all for my sexy new security guard.

  “You’re perfect,” he said.

  “You already got me naked. You don’t have to keep trying to win me over.”

  Liam flashed me a devilish smile. “Is that what I’m trying to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, running my index finger down the middle of his chest. I looked up at him and batted my lashes. “Is it?”

  “Turn around.”

  I turned. Liam plunged a hand into his pocket and pulled out a condom. If I wasn’t so turned on, I might have teased him for coming to his first day of work armed and ready for a sexual encounter.

  I heard him shimmy his jeans down. Then I heard the distinct snapping sound of his boxers against his skin as he tried to pull them off.

  I wanted to look. Had to look. He’d seen me, after all. No way was he getting this thing started without me stealing a peek.

  So I looked down over my shoulder. And there he was. Erect and ready. Swollen. Slightly curved up to his belly button.

  I watched him roll the condom on as my stomach swirled with excitement and lust. Without thinking, I leaned forward and braced myself with both hands on the armrest of my sofa, and then I spread my legs shoulder-width apart.

  Liam chuckled as he stepped in close behind me. “We can go to the bedroom if you prefer.”

  No. No more waiting. I wanted his cock there and then. I wanted him to take me. To make me his. Just for a little while. Every fiber of my being needed to know what it was like to be fucked by a man like him.

  “Here,” I whispered.

  Liam obeyed. His hips arched forward, and he took his cock and pressed it between my legs. I let out a breathless moan of pure primal desire and hung my head, waiting for him to slip inside me. I was wet. I could practically feel it running down my legs.

  Liam’s cock pressed against my opening. He applied more pressure and eased gently inside me, stretching me, filling me, sending me spiraling into a world of dizzying stars and pleasure and lust.

  “Yes,” I breathed as my nails bit into the fabric of my sofa. “More.”

  “You asked for it,” Liam growled behind me.

  He filled me up.

  I sighed with delight and arched my back, pressing my ass against him, daring him to go deeper. He did. Then he rocked himself gently, pushing in and out of me, warming me up for the delirious fuck session that was about to follow. I was ready for it.

  Liam gathered a fistful of my hair in one hand. I let out a delighted, throaty laugh as he pulled hard to hold my head against his shoulder. All the while, he continued fucking me nice and slow. He turned my head to the side to press his cheek to mine, and as he quickened his pace, he pressed kisses and nibbles to the side of my neck that nearly pushed me over the edge.

  His thighs slapped against the back of my legs. His speed quickened.

  My grip on the sofa t
ightened to the point where I thought one of my acrylics might snap right off. I wouldn’t have cried. It’d be worth it.

  “Harder,” I pleaded through clenched teeth.

  Liam released my hair, only to wrap his arm around my chest, still holding me firmly against him. His forearm rested against my throat, making it hard but not impossible to breathe. I released the sofa to clutch at his arm as he pinched my earlobe between his teeth and fucked me wildly. Had he not been holding on to me, I surely would have lost my balance.

  And as my climax built below my belly, I knew I only had seconds before I came undone.

  My eyes rolled back in my head, and I melted against him, yielding to him and his body and his cock and how good it all felt.

  “Your pussy is so fucking tight,” Liam growled in my ear.

  That did it.

  His words and his hot breath on the side of my neck broke me.

  I crumbled in his arms, and he held me up as I came hard and fast. My legs trembled, and my knees buckled. As the world spun around me and pleasure tore through every inch of my body, Liam pushed me forward, bending me over the armrest of the sofa and holding me there with a hand planted in the middle of my back.

  He bucked against me until my orgasm abated, and he didn’t relent until he earned a second one from me. At the same time, he groaned behind me and gave in to his own release.

  When he pulled away from me, it took all my strength to stand up and stay on my feet. All I wanted was to lay down and put my head on his chest.

  Liam grabbed my forearm and pulled me to him, where he devoured my mouth with more ravenous kisses. Then he stroked my cheek with one hand. “Meet me in your bedroom. I’m not done with you yet.”

  Hiring him had been the best decision I’d ever made.

  Chapter 13

  Liam

  What was that smell?

  Roses? Lilies? Something floral, soft, and delicate. It wasn’t overpowering or all-consuming, but rather a gentle scent that flooded my nostrils as I woke that morning.

  When my eyes opened, it took me a minute to process everything I was seeing.

  Big bay windows framed in sheer white curtains that let the sun in. A balcony through a set of inset glass doors pouring over with plants. A room of white walls, minimalist pieces of art, white furniture, fresh flowers, and the occasional unlit candle on some surfaces.

  I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands and remembered everything that happened last night after I brought Genevieve home from Kadia.

  Dropping Marley off.

  Drive-thru burgers.

  And then getting back here.

  And having the best sex of my life for nearly three hours.

  I smiled to myself. What a good fucking night. Genevieve was out of this world beautiful, and when she was on top? God, I’d never seen such a spectacular thing.

  I rolled over to wish her good morning but found her side of the bed empty. Puzzled, I frowned and sat up, peering around her sprawling bedroom quarters for some sign of her. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t through the open door into her bathroom, either. The light was off, and there was nothing but silence.

  And then I heard something down the hall at the other end of her home, from the kitchen.

  Still groggy with sleep, I tugged the covers down and sought out my clothes, which were folded up on a chaise lounge at the foot of the bed. Genevieve must have retrieved them from the floor—from the front door to the living room—sometime this morning and set them aside for me. After I dressed, I paused to steal a glance at myself in the mirror above her vanity. I raked my fingers through my hair a few times to tame the wild case of bedhead I had, and once I was satisfied that it was as good as it was going to get, I left the bedroom to seek out the woman of my dreams.

  I found her in the kitchen.

  She had her back to me and was frying up some scrambled eggs in a pan while she delicately sipped from a mug of something steaming. I couldn’t tell if it was tea or coffee. She was dressed in an ankle-length, sheer white robe, and underneath, she had a silky white slip. Her feet were bare, her hair was down and still wet from her shower, and as I approached, I could smell coconut on her skin.

  “Good morning.”

  Genevieve let out a startled breath and looked wildly in my direction. “Oh. Good morning. I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I’m not startled.” She blushed. Then she set the spatula down, went to the corner of the counter, and reached for a pot of coffee. “Can I pour you a cup?”

  “That would be great,” I said, sliding onto a bar stool at her kitchen island.

  I watched her make me a cup of coffee. When she asked how I liked it, I told her black, no sugar, and she brought the mug over to me. I sipped from the edge and enjoyed the rich, earthy flavor.

  This was likely the most expensive cup of coffee I’d ever had.

  “Eggs?” she asked, picking up the spatula once more and giving the eggs in the pan one final stir.

  “Sure,” I said, never one to refuse free food. I watched her fill up two small plates and add a dash of salt and pepper to the eggs. Then she spooned salsa onto hers, offered me some, and did the same to mine. Then she came and sat down beside me, sliding a plate and fork to me. I dug in. “Thanks. This is good.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I chewed and swallowed and repeated.

  I couldn’t tell if this was awkward or not. Did she wish I wasn’t there? Did she feel like she had to do these things because I’d spent the night? Or did she genuinely want to do them?

  I cleared my throat. “Genevieve, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spend the night. I just fell asleep and—”

  “Please don’t apologize.”

  I blinked at her.

  She smiled and covered her mouth with one hand as she swallowed a particularly large bite of her breakfast. “After such a… vigorous evening… it’s perfectly understandable that you fell asleep. I, for one, slept like a baby.”

  Her cheeks were bright red, and I was fairly certain she’d never looked more adorable. I chuckled. “Well. That’s good then. Right?”

  “Right.”

  I polished off the rest of my eggs and leaned back. “I still think it might not have been the most professional move of me to sleep in my boss’s bed my first night on the job.”

  She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe your boss didn’t want you to leave.”

  So the eggs and the coffee were done because she wanted to do it.

  At least I could safely assume that now.

  How I was the guy who’d ended up here, I still had no idea.

  I was used to casual backyard soirees with red solo cups, cheap beer, and dinners of burgers and hot dogs on the grill. If I was lucky, one of the other MC members’ wives would have brought a dessert of some kind. Ellie made a killer lemon meringue pie that all of us would literally fight over, and Holly treated us to an old family recipe of brownies when she was feeling keen in the kitchen.

  But this was a whole different ball game.

  Genevieve was elegance and class and her home was too. I’d never been in a house this lavish. Her kitchen was the stuff of interior-design magazines and gourmet-chef shows. Glittery white countertops caught the light above and dazzled from every angle. The crisp white cupboards were spotless and made the place feel huge. Her fresh flowers on the counter gave the kitchen a personal touch, and I couldn’t help but think of what it might be like to have grown up with this kind of money.

  Her upbringing would have been a hell of a lot different than mine. That was for sure.

  Genevieve caught me scoping out her place as she collected our plates and slid them into the dishwasher. “It’s a bit much. I know.”

  “What?” I asked hurriedly. “No, it’s beautiful.”

  She smiled as she closed the dishwasher with her hip. “My taste can be a bit
indulgent.”

  “You designed this yourself?”

  She shrugged. “I picked the color schemes and countertops and finishing touches. The team I hired did all the hard work and made everything flow together. I won’t lie. We had to change a couple of things I wasn’t happy with.”

  A woman like Genevieve London always got what she wanted. I was sure of it.

  She ran her fingers through her wet hair and shook it out. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, I’m all right. Thank you. I should probably get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a lot going on today.”

  “I have the day off, actually.”

  “Ah, even more reason for me to clear out and—”

  “I wanted to go to the farmers’ market.”

  Okay. Farmers’ market. Was that code for something else?

  “Sounds fun,” I said.

  Genevieve gave me a coy little smile and cocked her head to the side. “I would like to have an escort. If you’re available today, of course.”

  “I am,” I said quickly.

  She grinned. “Excellent. You’re more than welcome to have a shower if you’d like. There are extra towels folded up in the cubby beside the shower. Help yourself to whichever soap and shampoo you like.” She pointed toward the bathroom off the hall—the guest bathroom.

  It felt a little odd accepting the offer, but if I was going to go out and spend the afternoon with her, I most certainly wanted to shower first.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I have to finish getting ready anyway. Take your time.”

  I thanked her and made my way to the bathroom.

  It was as sparkly clean and sophisticated as the rest of the house. The shower was double wide with pristine, floor-to-ceiling glass doors. The white tile on the floor and walls of the shower was lined in black grout, giving it a modern but edgy feel. I turned on the water, hung up a towel, stripped naked, and stepped under the rain shower to enjoy the best water pressure of my life.