Embrace

by S. Layne

  Anything could happen.

  It’s that thought that has me doubting myself and making me want to run, but I can’t because it’s also that exact moment that Liam opens the door.

  “You made it,” he says, and opens the door further. He greets me with a wide smile and a look in his eyes that I instantly feel down to my toes.

  He drops his gaze and it slowly roams my body before he lifts his eyes to mine.

  “I’m here. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  I stumble slightly and flinch from the quick burst of pain. Liam notices.

  His hand wraps around my elbow to steady me and I tense under his touch.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” My hobbling step makes me a liar and Liam isn’t stupid. I wave off his frown. “I just sprained my ankle the other day. No biggie.”

  It is, though, because it hurts. I didn’t take my pain meds earlier in the day, wanting to remain clear-headed, but that’s all flying out the window as Liam guides me to his couch.

  “Sit,” he commands.

  I listen because I have no choice. It’s not just my ankle that feels wobbly and shaky.

  “Thank you.” My skin tingles and feels cold when he removes his hand, and I cover my arm with my other hand to brush the sensation away.

  When I’m brave enough to look up, Liam is watching me, an intense expression on his face that isn’t altogether appealing.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  I blink and stare at the television, unable to continue looking into the depths of his eyes. He seems to want to say so much more, but the tension between us is thick, and as he walks away I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

  I get moments to recompose myself—to remind myself why I’m here.

  It’s not to fall into his touch or under his spell or beneath him in his bed.

  Unfortunately, as soon as he returns, hands me my glass, and intentionally brushes his fingers against mine, all of those previous ideas sound like the best ones ever.

  I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. Swallowing takes effort, and the cool liquid does little to soothe my parched throat.

  “You wanted to talk,” Liam finally says. He takes a seat on the couch, too close to me.

  With his body turned toward me, he brings one ankle to rest on top of his other knee and tosses his arm along the back of his couch.

  His fingers are inches from my hair, yet it feels like he’s touching me already.

  “Liam,” I warn, but it comes out breathy. Damn my insane attraction to this wicked asshole.

  He smirks, as if he knows what he’s doing to me. I’m sure he does. My cheeks feel warm and I know they’re rosier now than when I first arrived. I want to roll the water glass over my cheeks and across my neck to cool myself.

  Good grief. It’s asinine that one man’s simple touch or look can do this to me.

  What kind of weak woman am I?

  With a fortifying breath, I focus on my purpose. Getting answers.

  “I want the truth.” I lean forward and set the glass on the table in front of me. When I lean back, I adjust myself to allow more space between us, turn, and give Liam my full attention.

  I refuse to allow him to know how much he affects me.

  “The truth isn’t as simple as you want it to be.”

  An exasperated laugh leaves my mouth. “That’s it? That’s what you wanted to explain to me the other night?”

  I steel myself and look him directly in his eyes. I’ve always heard the eyes are windows into someone’s soul, but I’ve never fully understood. Liam’s eyes now swirl with conflicting and obvious emotions. The tightness around his eyes, the slightly dilated pupils—they tell me different things, neither of which are what he’s saying.

  “I should probably leave if you’re not going to be honest.” I move to stand up, calling his bluff, when his hand reaches out and curves around my shoulder, stilling me.

  “Stay,” he says. And damn that voice with his slight accent. It does funny things to my belly, sending warmth to the apex of my thighs.

  “Only if you tell me.”

  “It’s a long story, Laurie.”

  I lean back and cross my arms. The move is defensive and I’m feeling the same way. I have to keep my defenses up around him before I throw myself at him.

  “Did you purchase ParaMed with the intent of merging with my father’s company?”

  He’s silent for a beat, waiting for me to look at him. I know it instinctively and when I turn my gray eyes on his blue ones, he nods.

  “Parkorp was originally a small, local company in Boston that had been in my mother’s family for generations. When my mom died, it was handed down to me. I inherited its ownership at twenty, when it was a simple medical supplies company, and after several years, after I learned the company and got my degree, I took over. The first thing I did was change the name and the focus, and I’ve spent the last ten years making sure it’s not only profitable, but successful beyond measure. That being said, it was never something I wanted to run. It was my mom’s family’s company, not mine.”

  I’m listening intently, not understanding this history, and I’m not given the chance to ask about the purpose of it when Liam continues.

  “I originally approached your father two years ago to sell, but at the time, he wasn’t interested.”

  I frown. “What changed?”

  Liam licks his lips and runs his hand through his hair. It’s such an uncommon, nervous gesture that my shoulders instantly tense.

  “He wants the Cell under him when it rolls out, and when he became prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure that happens, he contacted me.”

  I feel as if I’ve been tossed on a boat and pushed out to sea.

  I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but they’re all messed up. “I don’t understand how this involves you.”

  Liam tips his chin down. His look is almost patronizing when he brushes his thumb over my shoulder.

  “Anne would have never sold to your dad, Laurie. She left his company to go out on her own, and the Cell was her chance to prove herself that it was the right thing to do—not only to him, but to the medical community. A woman in power in this industry is rare.”

  “So you’re a pawn?” I ask, my head jerking back. His movements on my skin falter and I shift away from him. “Why would you do this?”

  He shrugs, and damn it if he doesn’t look like the most arrogant man I’ve ever seen.

  “I have no interest in sitting behind a desk for the rest of my life, running a business. Not my family’s, anyway. Merging Parkorp with your father’s company will keep me in control of what I want, and give me freedom to do what I really want.”

  He moves closer and licks his lips.

  I’m stunned as I watch the tip of his tongue slowly drag along his bottom lip. He’s teasing me. Enticing me.

  And I fall right into his trap.

  “What is it you want to do?”

  I don’t mean the question how it comes out. But I know with the way Liam’s fingers dig into my shoulder and then trail to my neck, that’s exactly how he took it.

  “You,” he says. His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he pulls me to him. His lips brush against mine and I inhale a gasp. “I want to do you.”

  And then he’s kissing me, and I lose all memory of the conversation we were having, how angry I am with him, as his tongue sweeps into my mouth and tangles with my own.

  I lean forward and my hand finds its place at the back of his neck.

  I’m losing myself to him all over again and I immediately begin to feel warmth spread to my core. My thighs tremble as I pull him close to me and shift my body to be closer to him.

  I hate that he has this effect on me.

  I love the way he tastes, though—like mint and fresh summer days.

  His hands are at my neck and my waist and then I’m mo
ving until he’s pulled me over his lap.

  My knees fall to the side and I straddle him. The pain in my ankle pulses from the sudden movement, but I don’t care.

  I need to be closer to him.

  My hips grind and roll over him of their own accord. I should pull away. I’m still so mad at him and his explanation hasn’t helped anything. He still lied.

  And yet with his hands on me, grazing against the bare skin on my arms and my neck, I no longer care.

  I want this.

  My body aches for this.

  I shift and love the way a pleasured groan escapes him.

  “Laurie, you’re so damn hot. So ready for me.”

  “Yes,” I gasp, and my hips grind against him again. I can feel his hard erection against me and I can’t be close enough to him.

  The dress was supposed to keep me safe from him.

  Now it’s just a hindrance to what my body craves.

  I gasp again as cool air hits my breasts. He’s untied my halter top without me even realizing it, and his mouth dips to one breast while his other hand cups the other.

  My head falls back and a rush of breath escapes my lips.

  I can feel his tongue licking me, sucking me into his mouth. Everything at the center of my thighs clenches and pulses.

  My hands go to his hair and I tug—to move him closer or push him away, I don’t know. I can no longer think clearly with his hands and his tongue all over me.

  “This dress has to go.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “So sexy,” he murmurs, pressing wet, hot kisses along my collarbone.

  My hips continue grinding and pushing against him. I can feel my clit pulsing, my slick flesh rocking against his pants. There’s too much between us.

  Lies and clothes.

  But I’m only concerned about one thing as Liam’s hands drop to my legs. He pushes up my dress, and I shift, allowing him the space to remove the offending fabric from my body and when it’s gone, ripped over my head and tossed to who-knows-where, Liam stills my rocking hips with his firm, warm hands.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says, his lust-filled eyes roving all over my bare skin.

  My lips part as I watch him.

  I need his mouth back on mine before I remember the reason I came here.

  I don’t think it was for this, but with him so close and touching me so well, rational thought flees.

  My hips rock into him and my hands drop to the waistband of his jeans.

  There is no belt to get in my way as I pop the first button.

  And then I’m on my back, Liam hovering over me, and he’s removed his shirt.

  My hands trail his chest and his abs as his hand lifts my injured leg. He spreads me open and sets my injured ankle on the top of his couch.

  His hand on my calf sends tingles straight to my sex and I lift my hips, whispering words of need when he kisses my leg.

  “You’re hurt,” he whispers, brushing his lips along my skin.

  “I’m fine.” I don’t want to think about my ankle. It’s not hurting now, numbed by the lust that’s overtaken my body. My ankle makes me think of James. Of anger. And I hate thinking. Liam’s supposed to make me forget those things.

  And he does, when his other hand drops to my center and his fingers slide through my wet flesh.

  “So hot and ready for me.”

  “Always.” I arch into him, groaning when he doesn’t do more than tease me. “I need more.”

  His low chuckle rumbles over me as he drags his lips over my breasts.

  “So hot and sexy, Laurie. I never thought one night could make me so crazy, so desperate for a woman.”

  “Please,” I gasp, arching into him. I don’t want him talking. His talking makes me think and I don’t want his confessions or empty promises.

  In my lust-addled, sex-craved head, I know whatever he says will eventually make me angry, make me regret this, but right now I don’t care.

  I still hate him.

  I just want him, too.

  It’s a deadly combination as his mouth drops to my sex. His tongue begins swirling around my swollen flesh and clit, and I feel as if I’ve already died.

  “Oh shit!” I cry and my hands clasp into his hair, holding his head against me. “So good. You’re so good at this.”

  “I love the way you fucking taste.”

  His tongue licks, his mouth sucks, and then his fingers join in; and my body begins overheating as he brings me to the edge, only to pull back.

  “More,” I whisper, gasping pleasured sounds as my orgasm teases me, hovers right at the edge. “I need more.”

  “I need you,” he whispers roughly, his lips against my inner thigh. He’s kissing me, licking my skin, tasting me everywhere as he climbs over my body and hovers over me.

  His arms extended, his hips drop and press against my pulsing flesh.

  “Yes,” I gasp, dropping my hands to his waist. With frantic need, I push down his jeans, taking his underwear with them.

  “Condom,” he groans, and I pause in my hurried pursuit as he pushes off me.

  The slight distance—the slight pause in our frantic need—has my head clearing, and the beginning twinges, the hints of regret, start growing inside me.

  “Liam,” I whisper as he removes a condom from his wallet and tears it open. “Hurry.”

  He chucks his jeans off, climbs back over me, and with one hand wrapped around his beautiful cock, he slides it through my wetness.

  My eyes roll back and I lift, trying to get him inside me, but he continues his teasing, torturous assault on my nerves and my mind and my body.

  “You were only supposed to be one night,” he says, sliding his cock against me. He sticks his tip in, barely, and pulls out.

  I open my eyes, hating what he just said, but needing to hear him.

  “I wasn’t supposed to care.”

  His eyes stare directly into mine. I see his confusion. His conflict.

  Because how dare he actually give a shit about someone.

  I flinch away from him, slowly coming back to reality. “I’m sorry I screwed up your plans.”

  His blue eyes go cold and he stops his teasing, stilling himself right at the entrance to my body. My walls clench, craving the release my body knows is so close.

  Liam’s lips twitch in displeasure as I reach for him.

  “Inside me,” I tell him, wrapping my hand around his erection. It’s heavy and hot in my hand and my fingers drop to his balls, massaging them.

  His head falls and his teeth grind together. “I fucking love watching you touch me.” And then his eyes rise to mine. “How in the hell did you make me care? That wasn’t the plan.”

  “The plan?” I ask, my body tensing beneath him.

  Coldness begins to wash over me, and my hands go to his chest, trying to push him away.

  But Liam must sense my hesitation because he starts moving, sliding into me. He’s on his knees and he has my hips in his hands. He lifts me, going deeper, and he doesn’t stop sliding into me until he’s fully seated.

  Fully consuming me.

  But it’s his words that are now swirling in my brain. What plan?

  “Let it go, Laurie,” he grunts as his hips begin moving. In…out…he circles…causing delicious friction between our connected bodies.

  My anger, my earlier indignation, begins seeping back into the edges of my mind where he hasn’t yet erased my ability to think clearly.

  And for the first time, I cannot listen to his demands.

  I press my hand against his chest and meet his intense gaze. “Stop.”

  The one words leaves my mouth on a whisper and everything inside my chest stalls.

  “What?” His jaw drops like I’ve stunned him.

  I’ve stunned myself. I’ve never been able to say no to Liam.

  Seconds tick by, the hand on my watch sounding like a hammer slamming into metal. It reverberates in the room.

  But with every tick, reality s
urfaces.

  Whatever Liam and I had was all physical reaction and emotional manipulation.

  He’s known from the very beginning what he does to me, and he’s used it at every turn to continue to keep me unfocused on the reality of my life around me.

  At one point, I wanted it—needed it—consequences be damned.

  But now the consequences are too large.

  And I’ve finally realized his game.

  “Get off me.” I push against his chest, but he doesn’t move. “Liam.”

  He lifts his head, and whatever expression I see in his cloudy eyes disappears as his eyes roam my face.

  His eyebrows pull together and his lips twist.

  “Get off me,” I say again, my voice hoarse and dry, but firm. “Now.”

  He listens, pushing his body off mine and he slides out of me. My body instantly feels the loss, still pulsing with the need to climax.

  I blink away the sudden empty feeling.

  Pushing myself to sitting, I drop my foot from the couch and scoot back.

  I’m naked in front of him, and I’ve never felt so exposed.

  “What plan?” I ask, my expression tight. I cover my breasts and search for my dress, but I can’t see it. Instead, I grab Liam’s shirt on the floor and toss it over me.

  When I look at him again, he’s run his hands through his hair and he’s pulling on his jeans.

  “You’re pissed at me?” he asks, his eyes wide with shock.

  “What plan?”

  I stand, bracing myself on his couch to regain my balance. My ankle throbs and I wait a moment before I finally spy my dress and begin moving toward it.

  “What was your plan, Liam?” I ask when I’m on my feet, facing him.

  His chest dips and heaves and his hands are braced on his hips.

  His blue eyes are rimmed with tightness when he says, “You know my plan. I was clear from the very first night: I give women pleasure.”

  I feel the force of his words from the distance between us as if he’s reached out and smacked me.

  “Right.” I nod and throw my dress over my shoulders, smoothing it down my hips. With my hands at the back of my neck, I begin retying it. “How could I have forgotten? That night of wanting more must have been bullshit, then, right?”

  He takes a step toward me, but stops. I appreciate it.