"Happier under my care," she said, a smile in her voice.
"I begrudgingly believe that," Riley told her sister with her own smile.
"Just so you know... plants actually need sunlight to survive, you vampire with these heavy drapes."
"Thanks again for doing it for me, Ron. I know it isn't easy to haul the kids around."
"Are you kidding? We are having the electric updated. There are men in my space all day long. It's driving me crazy. It's like a vacation over here."
"Move in if you want," Riley offered.
"No. Since you are coming home within a day or two," Ronni insisted.
"We'll see. I will keep in touch though."
"You better. Love you."
"Love you more," Riley told her, hanging up feeling a bit of a load off.
She hated keeping things from her family. And when Ronni called insisting to know she wasn't being held against her will or something, she decided to tell her.
Telling Ronni meant her family would automatically know as well. They were probably on a conference call already.
Which made her feel free, light.
Even if her sister's words were weighing on her a bit.
"Room service!" Devon's voice called through the door. Followed by a kick, "Come on, this is heavy."
Hopping out of bed, she rushed across the room to open the door, letting Devon move inside with coffee and pastries he had snagged for her from the breakfast cart since she slept right through the meal - as was usual.
"What did you get for me?"
"Nutella scone," he told her, pointing it out. "Apple turnover. And peach Danish."
"Ugh, what did I do to deserve this amazingness?" she asked, already reaching for the Nutella scone as Devon poured them both coffee.
"So, pretty lady, what is on your schedule for today? More romantic times with the local book slinger?" Her head shot up, apology in her gaze. "No, none of that," he said, shaking his head. "Sure, I would have loved it if you looked my way instead, but I think you two are sweet together. The bookworm and the book seller. It's like a Lifetime movie, y'know?"
"I'm just heading over there to do some work. Change of scenery might be just what I need."
"Oh, please. You're going over there to eye-bang O'reilly and you know it."
"Not that he is not eye-bangable, but I am going there because that's where the books and good coffee live."
"You liar. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"
"I don't know," Riley admitted, reaching for the apple turnover, plowing into it the way she always did when she was stressed.
"What's the problem? Have some fun. You're young still. So what if you got jiggy with some rando in some small town that one time? I bet that ends up being one of your favorite stories when you are old and wrinkly with milky eyes and a mouth full of fake teeth..."
"Gee thanks for that visual," Riley snorted, shaking her head.
"You know it's true. I bet ninety-percent of people on their death beds regret all the sex they didn't have."
She had to admit there was likely at least some truth in that.
"When's the last time you did something really fun, but ill-advised?" he went on, and she had to admit, it had been a good, long while. For someone who was impulsive by nature, that was not something she was proud to admit. "It's what makes life fun. So," he declared, getting to his feet, knowing he was supposed to be manning the front desk for that ever-present threat of the new designer showing up, "go climb that mountain, woman! And by mountain," he clarified, "I mean man."
With that, he was gone, leaving her to finish eating all her sweets and drinking all her coffee before showering and getting ready for her day.
She was making her way downstairs with her laptop under her arm when she caught something.
Someone.
In fact, two someones.
Dane.
And a woman who must have been Cordelia Cameron, the designer.
Having a bit of a tense conversation from the looks of things.
"Oh, man," Riley said, slapping a hand to Dane's shoulder blade as she caught the way he was watching the woman. "You are so fucked."
"Speaking of fucked," he shot back, giving her a brow raise. "I haven't heard anything fun coming from your room yet. Take off the fucking chastity belt, babe. Sex is the best part of being alive."
With that, he sauntered off, leaving Riley shaking her head at his retreating form before making her way down Main Street toward Stars Books.
"How many scones did you have this morning?" Liam asked without even turning around.
"One."
To that, he turned, brow raised.
"And one turnover. And one Danish," she added. "And I still want one of those," she went on, jabbing her finger at the pile of Madeleines on a plate in the dessert case.
"One?" he asked, smirking, knowing her a bit too well already.
"Okay three." She stood, waiting for him to make her coffee and plate her cookies that weren't - in her humble opinion - cookies at all. "What are you reading?"
"The Lost Queen."
"Oh, that's the Arthurian retelling, right? About Merlin's sister? I have been hearing good things."
"Rightfully so. You can borrow it when I'm done," he offered, passing her her order.
"I don't like to borrow. I like to keep. I won't be happy until I have them stored in my cupboards and under my bed." She took a sip of her coffee, eyes going small, accusing. "You only put three sugars in this," she grumbled.
"You didn't notice when I changed it to three-and-a-half," he told her with a smile. "I figured it was worth a shot."
"It's not your place," she reminded him, angling her chin up. "You don't mess with a girl's coffee."
"Duly noted," he agreed, nodding in a way that suggested he wouldn't try it again. "I have another copy of The Lost Queen on the shelf up front."
"You want to buddy-read with me?" Riley asked, smirking.
"Never tried that before," he admitted.
"Why not?"
To that, his smile went a bit wry. "Most people in town wouldn't sign up to spend more time with me."
"You're not that bad."
"You only think that because you're worse," he shot back, giving her a grin.
"Hey now. You've been here your whole life. I've only been here a week and some change and everyone loves me."
"They're distracted by all that," he said, waving a hand at her.
"Are you paying me a compliment, Liam?" she asked, smile almost a bit hesitant, worried she was wrong.
"You know you're beautiful, Riley."
It wasn't a compliment, not really.
But her belly - her traitorous belly - fluttered anyway.
"Can I give you some advice?"
His brow rose, the arrogant part of him surfacing, the part that said there was nothing you could tell him that he didn't already know. Regardless of the fact that she had already informed him that a group of penguins was called a waddle except when they were floating, when they were, in fact, a raft. And that Cookie Monster's real name is Sid.
There were things he could learn still too. But most people were likely intimidated by his confidence, the fact that he was so well-read.
"Sure," he said after a second, watching her dubiously.
"Even if you think a woman knows she's beautiful, she still likes hearing that you think she is."
His hands planted on the surface of the counter, his upper body leaning forward. "You're beautiful, Riley."
This time, it wasn't just one butterfly, no, it was a whole kaleidoscope of them swarming around in there.
It wasn't just the words.
It was the sincerity behind them.
It was the intensity in his light gray eyes.
"Thank you," she told him, voice airy.
His hand lifted from the counter, fluttering in the air for a long second before brushing up her jaw, slipping back into the roots of her tied-up hair, drawing h
er closer.
Her pulse skittered into overdrive, her chest getting heavy as he pulled her further still, made her meet him halfway, his eyes holding hers the whole while, looking as hooded as her own felt in the moment, needy with desire.
Her eyelashes fluttered closed as his face closed the last few inches between them, his lips sealing over hers.
It was soft, almost, explorative, un-demanding, but the contact sent off the sparks regardless, making a surprised little whimper escape her, something that caused his fingers to tighten in her hair, curl into the back of her head, holding her still as his lips crushed harder, got more demanding, dragged the same desperation out of her.
Her hands lifted, sliding up the heavy cable-knit of his sweater, curling in right above the elbows.
A low, rumbling sound moved through his chest, making her thighs press together to stem the chaos there in a primal response.
There was a scratching sound - his free hand moving her coffee and plate out of the way - before both his hands slid down her sides, sinking in at the hips, pulling, forcing her up on her toes as her hands twined around his neck, letting him pull her off her feet, over the counter. Her knees settled on the surface for a long moment, giving her the height advantage. Feeling oddly bold because of it, her teeth snagged his lower lip, pulling hard enough for him to let out a growl.
His hands slipped downward, curling in under her knees then, before she could realize his motive, yanking hard, making her crash down onto her ass on the counter with a grumble even as his tongue took the opportunity, moving inside to claim hers.
She scooted forward, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling his body flush to hers as desire stole through her system, robbing her of anything but the sensations.
Her hips wiggled, making her need brush against his, drawing a moan from her.
Another rumble moved through him as his body folded forward, pressing her flat against the counter as he came over her, grinding his hips into her, making his cock hit her clit with perfect precision. A shudder racked her system as the moan clawed its way out from somewhere deep within.
His lips broke from hers, leaving them swollen and sensitive, moving down her cheek, then the column of her neck as her breathing got hitched and frantic, everything within her begging for more.
His tongue moved out to trace the path blazed by his lips, moving up to tease the lobe of her ear before his teeth nipped in.
Her hands moved frantically down his back, dragging the material of his sweater and the tee below up, begging for his skin as the material of her own clothing chafed over too-sensitive skin.
"Not yet," he told her ear, his breath making another shudder move through her.
A grumbled burst from her before she could stop it, making a chuckle vibrate through his chest as he balanced his weight on one arm, allowing the other one to snake under the hem of her shirt, teasing over the skin that shouldn't have been sensitive - but somehow was regardless.
They moved torturously slow upward until the tips teased the line of her bra before he pushed upward to look down at her, dragging the shirt up, smiling a bit when her hands raised over her head, unabashedly begging for nudity in the middle of a store with an unlocked door.
She was too far gone to care, too needy for it to worry about intruders.
He freed her of the shirt, his fingers drifting over her collarbones, then down over the small swells over the tops of the cups, then pressing down a bit as he moved over the smooth satin material, circling over her hardened nipples before moving back up, grabbing the cups, yanking them down, freeing her to his greedy gaze.
A deep breath expanded her chest, shivering out of her as his palms closed over the swells, squeezing a bit before releasing, his thumbs and forefingers taking her nipples, rolling them to tighter points.
Her hips bucked, grinding her against him again. And, beside herself with the need for fulfillment, her hips did a roll, then another, until the friction was doing nothing to stem the desire, only stoke it hotter, higher, until it burned through every inch of her body.
Liam's eyes closed for a second, letting himself get lost in the sensation before opening again, his hips yanking away hard, smiling a bit when she whined at the loss even as his fingers snagged the waistbands of her pants and panties, slowly dragging them down her legs, over her knees, off her ankles.
His hands teased up the skin of her calves, making the flesh goosebump over the unfamiliar teasing sensation.
His fingers found the backs of her knees, drawing them up toward his chest before pressing them open, spreading them wide, holding them against the cold surface of the counter.
His hand moved up her inner thigh, teasing the crease where it met her hip before blazing a path inward, sliding up her slick cleft, pressing into her aching clit, making her back arch off the counter as a moan moved through her, desperate for more of the sensation.
"Liam," she whimpered, gaze on his face as he watched his finger working her between her thighs.
At the sound of his name, his gaze moved lazily up, watching her, taking in the desperation in her face as his thumb pressed hard into her clit again, making her body jolt with the stab of pleasure.
Without warning - except maybe the small, satisfied smirk on his face - two fingers moved downward, thrusting inside her, turning, and scraping over the top wall even as his thumb worked her clit again.
"Liam, please," she begged, not sure what she was asking for. More of his fingers, or to have him inside her, so lost that all she could focus on was an end to the torment, the oppressive weight on her lower stomach.
His body lowered suddenly, his tongue replacing his fingers, working over her relentlessly,not giving the sensations a chance to ebb as his fingers started thrusting, always making passes over her G-spot each time, making her walls clench tight around him as the orgasm built hard and fast in her system.
She could feel herself pushed there - to that edge right before the fall.
But his fingers pulled out. His tongue abandoned her just when she needed it most.
An ache the likes of which she was sure she never experienced before grasped her core, twisting painfully at the denial of what she so badly needed.
Desperate, her body folded up, her lips claiming his, tasting herself, even as her hands moved down his stomach, finding his button and zip, working them free, almost clumsily reaching within, pulling him free, grasping him, sliding her hand up and down his hard length, her finger swiping over the head, dragging a rumble through his chest again, making her sex clench hard.
She wanted him as needy as she felt right then.
She wanted him past the point of teasing, of dragging it out.
Another few swipes and he was growling, snatching her by the wrist, pulling her hand away.
Her teeth snagged his lower lip and she was vaguely aware of his hand going into his pocket, fetching his wallet.
She heard the crinkle, then losing both hands for a moment, a rip.
His hands moved between their bodies, protecting them, as his lips bruised into hers.
Done, his hand fisted his cock at the base as his free hand moved up to slip into the hair at the base of her neck, twisting, yanking, dragging her lips from his as he ran his cock up her cleft, pressing the head against her clit, tapping until she was crying out, begging for an end to the torture.
His gaze held hers as his cock slid downward, pressing hard against the opening to her body for a long moment, making her hips grind up against him, desperate for the invasion, to feel him inside.
His hips pressed forward, his cock sliding into her slowly, inch by inch, making her acutely aware of the stretch of her walls around him, her breath seeming stuck in her chest until he was buried to the hilt, coming out in a strobe-like exhale that made a shiver course through her.
Liam's eyes blazed as his fingers in her hair pulled, backward, downward, forcing her flat against the counter again, releasing her only then, a sting moving over her scalp
at the freedom.
His hands moved over her breasts again as he stayed stubbornly still inside her - unaware, or unconcerned with the clawing need inside, for movement, for friction, for the oblivion that she almost feared the intensity of.
His fingers worked her nipples to impossible harder points before his hands slid down her belly, over her hips, down her thighs, snagging her knees again, uncurling her legs from around his waist where she was holding on tight.
He pulled them up to his chest, higher, pushing them straight up into the air, her ankles both settling on one of his shoulders.
One hand held them there in a vice-like grip as his other moved between her thighs, pressing against her clit, but not circling it.
"Liam, please," she begged, attempting a pathetic hip swirl that the position proved all but impossible.
Luckily, Liam was done teasing as well.
His hips yanked back, thrusting forward hard, making her take him to the hilt with a forceful, almost violent intensity.
He paused, seeming to gauge her reaction.
Her mind couldn't form words. Her lips and tongue would be useless to spill them anyway.
But her walls clenched tight around him, drawing a growl from him as he pulled back, thrust again, the same brutal intensity.
One of her arms curled upward over her head, holding onto the counter as the force of his body nearly toppled her over it.
The other closed tight around the wrist of the hand between her thighs, begging for movement, something he stubbornly refused her until the need seemed to become too much for him even to control, his thrusts getting faster - though no less hard - and his finger started working her clit, drawing her up faster, taking her to that edge before she could even prepare her body for that teetering sensation.
Her mouth opened to cry out, but no sound came, as his hips thrusted, his fingers swiped.
And she fell.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Her air caught in her lungs, making her head get fuzzy before she finally crashed down, the waves coursing through her system violently as his name came crying out from between her lips.
He worked her through it, dragging it out, milking it for all it was worth before his hips thrust forward, his cock settling deep, his body jerking hard as he came.
What The Heart Learns Page 12
