by J. H. Croix
The hostess hardly granted me a glance, her eyes flicking to Liam even when she was taking my drink order. Needing something to take the edge off the wild restlessness inside, I ordered a pomegranate martini. Liam ordered a dark beer. The hostess went her way, and Liam leaned back with a sigh, his deep blue eyes bright in the soft lighting. “So tell me why this place is so amazing.”
I fiddled with the place setting, unrolling the crisp white napkin around it and laying it on my lap as I replied. “It’s been around forever. Well, maybe not forever but over fifty years. Trust me when I say it’s a favorite of many, not just me. You can have everything from biscuits and gravy to glazed fresh caught salmon.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Biscuits with gravy? A bit odd if you ask me.”
“Oh, they’re delicious. Must be an American thing.”
“Odd, I say. Do you select what kind of biscuit? Say chocolate, or other?”
“Chocolate biscuits? Now that’s odd.”
Our waiter arrived to hear the tail end of our back and forth. He glanced between us. “Language barrier,” he announced with a grin.
Liam and I swung to him simultaneously. The waiter’s grin widened. “Brits call cookies biscuits. A chocolate cookie would be horrible with gravy. I’m sure you’d both agree,” he said, his eyes bouncing between us as he served our drinks. He wore the usual black slacks and crisp white shirt for the staff there. “I’m Forrest by the way, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear our specials tonight?”
At Liam’s nod, Forrest reeled off a list of specials. Liam graciously asked what Forrest would recommend from the menu when he started to flip through it. Forrest gamely began making a wide variety of suggestions. Liam’s brows rose slightly with each additional dish. By the time Forrest finished, Liam had leaned back and started shaking his head. “That’s a smashing long list. Can’t remember a bit. Think I’ll go with the cookies and gravy,” he said with a slow grin and a wink in my direction.
I flushed and rolled me eyes. “How was I to know biscuits are cookies to you? It’s not like you knew what I meant either. Anyway, are you sure you want that for dinner? It’s kind of a breakfast thing.”
Liam nodded firmly. “I love gravy, and I love breakfast.”
I glanced to Forrest. “If we’re going to eat breakfast dishes, I’ll go with an omelet.”
“It’s a breakfast dinner then,” Forrest said with a grin. “Any appetizers to go with that?”
After we shook our heads, Forrest departed and I took a sip of my martini, savoring the sweet tang of pomegranate. Liam took a long drag on his beer and idly rolled the bottle around after he set it down, his eyes pinned to me. I wasn’t accustomed to the kind of attention he gave me. I crossed and uncrossed my legs and took another few sips of my martini. It was safe to say Liam’s mere presence was overwhelming for me. My comfort zone was at work where I called the shots and focused on dry, clinical details. Being with Liam elicited a constant sense of being off balance between my body’s haywire response to him and my own warring emotions. I wished I had the suave social banter skills the hostess had. She’d seamlessly flirted with Liam. Meanwhile, my brain went right to wondering what to say and how to say it.
Liam saved me from obsessing much longer. “So you must come here often if it’s one of your favorites.”
I shrugged. “As often as I get out, I suppose I come here a lot. Not as much as when I was little. My parents used to bring me here every month for Sunday brunch. We lived about an hour outside of Seattle, and it was an event.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but I didn’t know what it was. “Do they still live nearby?” he asked, the next logical question.
“Not for a long time. They died in a car accident when I was ten. There’s no need to apologize,” I said, warning him off. I’d given this answer so many times, I was used to people feeling they must say they were sorry. “My mother’s twin sister raised me after that, and she’s still right where I grew up.”
His eyes had gone dark, and he was quiet for a long moment. “Perhaps it’s not necessary, but I am sorry. It’s hard to lose a parent, much less both at once the way you did.”
Something about the look on his face evoked a strong sense of loss and pain. I didn’t know why, but I knew it wasn’t simply because he’d learned my parents had died. “Are you okay?” I asked, not knowing why I felt compelled to ask.
His jaw tightened, and he took a quick gulp of his beer before replying. “My mum died of a stroke. Just a few months ago,” he said, his voice almost wondering as if he couldn’t quite believe it had happened.
“Oh Liam, I’m so sorry,” I said. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached across the table with one hand and curled it around his, giving a squeeze.
His shoulders tensed and then relaxed when he returned the squeeze. “Can’t say I’m quite used to it yet.”
“Is your family close?”
He nodded, his throat moving with a swallow. “I worry about my dad. I might’ve fought against coming to the team here, but I’ve two brothers and they’re nearby in London. They all insisted I do just as I would’ve if mum was alive. I’m bloody relieved Alex signed with me. We’ve been best mates since we were but lads, and he knows how close I was to my mum. It’s not as bad as it was, but then I suppose you know that.”
My heart clenched at the sadness held in Liam’s usually teasing gaze. It was plain as day he’d loved his mother and was still reverberating from her death. I wanted to smooth the edges of his pain and I hardly knew him. Not really. “I have an idea. Loss is a strange thing. I was so much younger than you are, so I’m guessing it was different. You never stop missing people you lose, but you do get used to it. It’s almost like it sharpens all the good, and you learn memories can help eventually.”
He was quiet, his eyes considering. He finally nodded slowly. At that moment, Forrest stopped by the table. I hadn’t realized I’d nearly emptied my martini. “Another drink while you wait for your meal?”
Liam slipped his hand free of mine as he lifted his beer bottle, as if testing its weight. At his nod with mine following, Forrest spun away. Liam caught my eyes. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “Not everyone understands, but I can tell you do.” He leaned back and gave his head a little shake. “This is the part where we awkwardly move on.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. We could be maudlin all evening if we dwelled on the topic, so I was happy to move on. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Forrest returned with our drinks. “Food will be ready in just a few,” he said as he kept moving.
A while later, I was laughing so hard, I’d almost spit my food out. Aside from being so handsome and sexy he nearly melted me, Liam was a funny and engaging dinner companion. He’d declared the biscuits and gravy his new favorite dish and had been regaling me with stories about pranks he and Alex played on friends during grammar school, which I’d learned was the British equivalent of grade school.
After Liam paid for dinner, which I’d started to argue about and he’d pinned me with a glare, we walked out into the chilly drizzle. The street glittered under the lights cast onto its wet surface in the dark. Liam’s palm was warm on my back as he guided me onto the railcar. We managed to find seats now that the work rush was over. Once we were seated, I became hyperaware of Liam’s closeness. His thigh, every hard, muscled inch of it, rested against mine. My pulse skittered and heat coiled low in my belly. I couldn’t help but glance up to find him looking down as if he’d been waiting. Without a word, he slid his hand onto my thigh, the heat of his touch branding me.
I tore my eyes away where they landed on an ad mounted directly across from us inside the rail car. It just so happened to be an ad for the Seattle Stars, Liam’s new team. The ad featured a shot of Liam himself, his leg angled out as it connected with the ball. Even in a still photo, he conveyed a sense of power and motion. My pulse notched higher and my attention zeroed in on where his palm rested on my thi
gh. Desire, the very desire only Liam could elicit, rolled through me in a hot rush. I fought against clenching my thighs together when my channel throbbed.
Chapter 13
Liam
I sat beside Olivia and did my damnedest to keep from sliding my hand between her knees. Dinner with her had been divine. A distant corner of my mind kept nudging me with the persistent suggestion that what I was doing with Olivia wasn’t anything of the usual sort when it came to women. I generally didn’t take women on dinner dates, unless it happened by chance, such as I was out with my mates and we ended up at a restaurant and there were women there with us. It wasn’t that I was opposed to the idea, but I’d simply never met a woman who inclined me to ask. Olivia had surprised me tonight. Oh, she had her moments of sternness, but it was as if she’d decided to cease worrying about whether it was proper to have dinner with me.
When she opened her door and I saw her curls tumbling wildly about her shoulders, I’d almost snogged her right then and there. She was such a tempting combination of beautiful and sexy, and she was so damn guileless that it made it all worse. My cock had been at half-mast all evening, the only time it wasn’t was when I stumbled into the topic of her parents’ death and my mum’s. She was so refreshingly honest in her response. Outside of my own family, Alex and then Coach’s comments about my mum, I barely spoke of it, yet somehow it had been okay with Olivia.
She shifted beside me, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, the subtle motion of her thigh under my palm knocking my mind right back to where we were—with Olivia pressed up against my side, her scent hinted with honey drifting around me, and her thigh warm under my touch. My need for her was so fierce, I truly didn’t know if I could hold back much longer. I wanted to see and touch every inch of her and bury myself so deep inside that maybe I could slake the madness she elicited.
The automated speakers on the railcar announced her cross street. I reluctantly slid my palm off her leg and curled it around her hand as we stood. I hadn’t considered this part of tonight. I was starting to realize I’d taken quite a lot for granted when it came to women. Usually, I didn’t think about whether a woman might turn me away and leave me wanting. With Olivia, I did. As desperate as I was for her, my need was inextricably linked to hers matching mine. Speaking of things I’d never thought of with women, I had to admit I’d never wondered if a woman wanted me as much as I wanted her. But then, I’d never wanted a woman the way I wanted Olivia.
We stepped onto the sidewalk into the rain, which had surprisingly moved beyond a drizzle and was falling steadily now. Olivia paused to look up at me, and I was mesmerized. I stood there like a fool with rain falling all around us and stared down at her. Her lashes were damp and spiky, illuminating her eyes, so green I could lose myself in them. She had forgotten to pull her hood up and the raindrops falling on her hair gleamed from the soft glow of the streetlights.
A drop of rain rolled down her cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb as I turned to face her. Her eyes searched my face. I didn’t know what she saw there. All I knew was I had to taste her again. My eyes on hers to the last second, I dipped my head and fit my mouth over hers. The point of contact was electric, sending a bolt of lust through me. The contrasting heat of her lips to the chilly rain notched up the heat inside. A soft sound came from her throat as I threaded my hand into her damp curls and swept my tongue in her mouth.
I forgot everything but her—she was like a drug just for me, so sweet, so delicious and so intoxicating. She flexed in my arms and slipped a hand up behind my neck, her tongue tangling with mine. With the rain falling around us, I let go. With one hand tangled in her hair, I slid the other down her back and over the lush curve of her bottom. She’d worn this skirt that I was fairly certain had been designed solely to make me mad. It hugged her hips and I’d spent much of the evening wondering if I’d be able to tug it up and bury myself inside her. I pulled her against me, groaning in response to her moan and when she opened her thighs just enough for me to grind my cock into her.
A horn honked nearby, and Olivia tore her lips free with a gasp. Her eyes whipped up to meet mine. For a moment, I felt bereft, instantly missing the feel of her mouth under mine. I started to say something, but she spoke first.
“We’re getting soaked. Come on.” She stepped back and grabbed my hand. We ran through the rain together, dashing into the entrance to her building. She started to run up the stairs and paused on the bottom step, turning back to face me. Her eyes were dark and wild, her cheeks flushed and her skin damp from the rain.
“Would you like to come up?” she asked, her voice breathy.
Her question ranked right up there with some of the most unnecessary questions in the universe, but I loved that she asked it. At my nod, she spun away and all but dragged me up the stairs behind her. She lived on the third floor in this charming little building tucked amongst the more modern buildings in downtown Seattle. As such, we had two flights of stairs to climb. She came to an abrupt stop about halfway up the second flight, spinning back to me, her eyes wide and worried.
“Your knee! I’m so sorry. I forgot…” Her words trailed off, and she bit her lip, her eyes casting down to the knee in question.
“Is fine. Tim’s had me on the stair-stepper every day all week.”
Those gorgeous green eyes flicked back up. “Okay, I’ll slow down though. I didn’t mean…”
Our faces were close to level with her one step above me. I gave her hand a tug and slid my free hand down the curve of her hip, curling it around her bottom and pulling her close. “Hurry all you like, luv,” I whispered right before our mouths collided again.
I wasn’t much for snogging. It wasn’t that I didn’t take my sweet time and make sure any woman I was with walked away satisfied, it was more that I wanted to get to the main act, so to speak. But Olivia was different. I could have stood there on the stairs, damp from the rain and slightly chilled through, and kissed her for hours. The buttoned up doctor I’d met weeks ago abandoned all restraint once our lips were melded. Between long, wild tangles of our tongues, she nipped at my bottom lip and gasped when I slipped my hand around and tore her jacket open to fondle her breasts. She curled a leg around one of mine and arched into me, a low moan escaping into our kiss when I rolled a hard nipple between my fingers.
At the sound of footsteps starting up the stairs below us, I reluctantly pulled back. Her eyes were dazed, giving me some relief because I was about out of my mind and didn’t want to be alone in this madness. She didn’t seem to be aware of why I’d pulled back and curled a hand around my neck. “Upstairs, luv,” I whispered against her lips. “We’re about to have company.”
Her eyes widened with alarm, and she turned, entirely forgetting about my knee again as she walked swiftly up the remaining stairs. Fortunately, my knee really was handling the stairs fine. We made it through the door and into her apartment. She released my hand and kicked off her shoes before striding away from me. I left my shoes beside hers by the coatrack and hung my jacket, while she turned up the heat and flicked a few lamps on, casting a soft glow about the cozy room. I liked her flat—it was small, but inviting with its warm colors and small sofa covered with pillows.
Olivia turned back in my direction as she peeled her raincoat off. I met her on her way across the room. Her coat fell to the floor when I stepped flush against her. I could barely think, much less act rationally, but I had to make sure of one thing.
“You’d best say so now if you’d like me to go.” I closed my eyes and gulped in air. Opening them, I locked my gaze with hers. “I want you, Olivia, but I need to know if you want me too.”
I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse in her neck, the flush cresting her cheeks, and feel her breasts rising and falling with her breath against my chest. She swallowed and lifted a hand to adjust her glasses. She was quiet long enough, I started to worry. Then, she nodded. When she didn’t say anything, I was compelled to speak. “What does that mean?”
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed again. “I want you.” Her words fell into the quiet room, crystal clear and soft.
A knot of tension I hadn’t even known had been balled up in my chest eased. I reached up and removed her glasses, carefully setting them on a small table beside the couch. “Okay then.”
I’d had all kinds of ideas about how I’d prove beyond any doubt to Olivia that sex wasn’t boring. Most of them involved fantasies of how I’d be in control of myself because then I could orchestrate what was happening. I’d look back later and realize how little control I had and what a silly, arrogant man I’d been. The sound of her glasses clicking against the wood of the small table was like a fire alarm inside. I threaded my hand into her wild, dark curls and brought my lips to hers again. What followed was pure madness, my control lost in the wake of the lust pounding through me.
She sighed into my mouth, a soft sound coming from her throat, and I yanked her hard against me. It was as if our kiss on the stairs had been on pause. Her leg curled around mine and she arched into me. I could feel the tight peaks of her nipples through her thin blouse, and I shoved it up, groaning at the feel of her silky skin. Everything was in the way. I tore my mouth from hers and flung her shirt off. Those fumbled, heated, unplanned moments in her office hadn’t given me time to truly look at her. I let my eyes travel down, tracing a finger around her taut nipples. She wore another flimsy excuse for a bra, the sheer cream lace offering glimpses of pink. I dragged my tongue over the lace, smiling against her when she moaned and arched into my mouth. While I poured my need to practically absorb her inside by drenching the lace covering her, I cupped both breasts in my palms, savoring the fullness. I finally lifted my head and almost came on the spot when I saw her.
Her eyes were half closed, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in shallow pants. She was arching into me, rolling her hips against my cock, which was so hard it was a miracle I hadn’t made a mess in my trousers. I dragged my tongue into the valley between her breasts and finally flicked my thumb under the clasp, groaning at the sight of her breasts tumbling free. They were perfect, her nipples wet, pink and standing erect. I couldn’t help but suck one and then the other into my mouth again. When she gasped me name, I lifted my head. I didn’t know why, but the sound of my name sent a whip of need through me.
