Escaping Reality

by Lisa Renee Jones

  that five minutes later when I walk out of the store with a bag that includes

  popcorn I cannot even pop. Another brilliant move considering my limited

  funds.

  I’m just full of them. I am less worried about who might be following

  me than I am who might be waiting at my door when I arrive. Crossing the

  parking lot, my gaze skitters here and there, watching for the stranger.

  Watching for him.

  I am about to cross the grass to the stoplight when a fancy black

  sedan pulls up beside me and stops. My heart lurches and I whirl around as

  the passenger window rolls down, but I cannot see the driver. Holding my

  breath, I lean down to discover Liam occupies the driver’s seat, and the

  man is power and sex in a black suit and a royal blue shirt that brightens his

  already too blue eyes. He reaches across the car and opens the door. “Hop

  in, baby.”

  My stomach flutters at the endearment that he might use on all

  women, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Right now, he’s using it on me. Right

  now, his eyes are on me and even in the playfulness I sense in him, they are

  as intense as the man. And Liam Stone is as intense as they come.

  “Is this your car?” I ask, trying to decide what to do. Certain that

  getting in the car with him is my ticket to being mindlessly lost in the

  temptation that is Liam.

  “Rental.” He arches a brow at my stillness. “If you’re worried I’ll bite,

  I promise to tell you first.”

  My eyes go wide before I can stop them and he laughs, a sexy, rough

  sound deep from his chest. The same chest I have touched and want to

  touch again. I glower at him. “I won’t.” The smart reply earns me another of

  his sexy laughs, and he’s successfully seduced me right here in the spot I

  stand.

  Caving to the inevitable, I step forward and settle my bags on the

  floorboard of the obviously expensive car. Discreetly inhaling, I steel myself

  for the impact of being in a small space with him where I both long to be,

  but see it for what it is. A mistake. Being near this man is not going to help

  me say goodbye.

  The instant I slide inside the car, expensive leather hugs my bare legs,

  and Liam’s earthy scent tickles my nostrils, teasing me senseless. It’s

  official. This was a mistake. A wonderful mistake. I tug the door shut,

  rotating toward Liam and I am pulled into his arms, one strong hand sliding

  into my hair. “Miss me?” he asks, and his breath is a hot tease on my lips.

  My fingers curl on his jaw, the soft rasp of newly forming whiskers

  teasing my fingers. I remember that rasp on my skin. Everything fades but

  the moment and the man. No one has ever done that to me. “Did you miss

  me?”

  “I’ll let you decide.” His mouth slants over mine, his tongue parting

  my lips, caressing against mine in one lush stroke. “Do I taste like I missed

  you?”

  I am melting like chocolate in the hot sun, and he has barely touched

  me. But I want him to. Oh yes. I want him to. “I’m still not convinced.”

  His lips curve a moment before he answers me by licking wickedly

  into my mouth, teasing me with two deep strokes of his tongue that leave

  me darn near panting. “Any doubt I missed you now?” he challenges.

  My chest burns with his reply. Liam missed me. I have been missed.

  This is unfamiliar territory and I like it. And I am so not ready to let go of

  this man. “If I say yes you won’t kiss me again, right?”

  “I’ll do a whole lot more than kiss you when I get you alone.” His

  promise is somehow both soft velvet and rough sandpaper, and the air

  around us shifts, thickens, the sexual tension transforming into something I

  cannot name, far deeper than simple lust. Far harder to walk away from. He

  strokes a tender hand down my hair and I lean into the touch like a cat

  claiming her territory when he is not mine. He will never be mine.

  “Hungry?” he asks.

  “Is that a trick question?”

  His lips curve. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” He brushes his lips over mine.

  “Me too, baby.

  Me too.” He releases me and leans back in his seat and I am instantly

  cold where I was hot seconds before. He puts the car in drive and cuts me a

  steamy blue-eyed look. “Buckle up and we’ll be at your place in no time.”

  I don’t argue, eager for anything that makes me feel grounded,

  certain this man will take me on a wild ride before this night is over if I let

  him. And I can’t let him. I squeeze my eyes shut, telling myself I will not do

  anything but get out of this car. I will make small talk and ease the sexual

  tension and get back where I need to be to do what I have to do.

  “There’s a great Italian place next to the hotel, if you like Italian?”

  My lashes lift at his question and settles on the logo on the

  dashboard. “I’m a pasta addict.” I’m about to add “mostly Ramen noodles,”

  but my gaze narrows on the logo on the dash and I decide he probably

  doesn’t even know what Ramen is. “You rented a Bentley?”

  He shrugs. “They didn’t have anything else.”

  “They had nothing but a Bentley?” I don’t hide my disbelief. I’ve

  never even seen a

  Bentley and I figure that’s because they run in the six-figure range

  and I don’t know people that pay that kind of money for a car. Really, I

  don’t know many people who can even afford to park a car in New York, let

  alone pay for the vehicle.

  “It’s the only car I thought was good enough to drive you around in.”

  “Me?” I balk, pursing my lips. “You, Liam Stone, are rich and spoiled. I

  am not.”

  “I’ll spoil you if you let me.” His voice is a soft, silky promise.

  My chest burns with something I do not want to feel. “No.” It comes

  out almost a hiss I cannot retract. “I don’t want your money.” I just want a

  life.

  If he notices my tone, he doesn’t show it. “Spoken like someone who

  has never had money.”

  Avoidance is always my friend. His questions are not. “Very few

  people have your kind of money.”

  “Which shows my point.” he assures me.

  “Which is what?”

  “I have the money to spoil you and I plan to.” He doesn’t give me

  time to argue, shifting the subject like he’s stamped the topic done,

  approved, fact. “Do you have anything that will spoil or can we go straight

  to the restaurant?”

  I don’t want food. I want to lick that tattoo of his before I say

  goodbye to him. That would keep him from asking questions. Until it’s over,

  I remind myself. “I need to drop by my place and change.”

  His hot gaze flickers down my bare legs, and up again. “I like you like

  this.”

  My cheeks heat and my sex clenches. “You’re in a suit.”

  “I’ll change. You stay the way you are.”

  I open my mouth and snap it shut before I tell him I like him just as

  he is. That isn’t going to help my goodbye campaign, but then neither did

  kissing him. I try again. “Either way, I want to freshen up.”

  Liam pulls the car in front of his hotel and a doorman is ins
tantly

  helping me out of the car. By the time I’m standing, Liam is in front of me,

  reaching for my bags, and he has them before I can stop him. “I’ve got

  them,” I say, reaching out to take them, and darn it, our hands collide,

  sending a tingling sensation up my arm.

  My eyes dart to his, and I see the awareness in his stare. He too has

  felt the connection.

  Maybe this is only sex to him, or some need to protect me I can’t

  understand, but it’s real. It exists and it is powerful.

  “I’ll meet you at the hotel bar in thirty minutes,” I choke out from my

  suddenly dry throat.

  “You said you didn’t want to go to the hotel with me.”

  “To your room. Hotel bars are open to the public.”

  His eyes narrow, suspicion etched in their depths. “I’ll help you with

  your bags.”

  “They’re paper light. Let me hurry. I’ll meet you in twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  “If you come to my apartment, we’ll get distracted.” For once, I get

  to speak the truth.

  He arches a brow. “Is that supposed to discourage me?”

  “Yes,” I replied tartly, and the urge to kiss him one more time before

  I deliver the goodbye is too intense to fight. I push to my toes and lean in to

  him, hands flattening on the hard wall of his chest, and press my lips to his.

  He is stiff, unyielding, and I am instantly uncomfortable, second-guessing

  my boldness. I begin to pull back when he drops my bags to the ground and

  pulls me close, his hand sliding up my back, his tongue licking into my

  mouth in one long, hot sweep that has me moaning into his mouth.

  “You’re no recluse,” I accuse when his lips leave mine, shocked at the

  scene we’ve certainly made, embarrassed to even look around and find out

  who is watching.

  “Or I just want to make sure you know how much I want you, no

  matter what the price.

  And you’re right. If I come with you to your apartment, we won’t

  leave anytime soon.” He sets me away from him, and to my horror grabs

  my bags from the ground and looks inside. His gaze lifts, brow arching.

  “Plasticware?”

  The warmth his declaration about wanting me had created turns

  cold. “I haven’t had time to unpack.”

  “So your things were delivered today?”

  “My things are just fine.”

  I reach for the bags and he shackles my wrist. “Amy—”

  A horn honks, saving me whatever command is certain to come out

  of his too-tempting mouth. “We’re making a scene. I’ll see you in a few

  minutes.”

  His jaw flexes, tension etched in his face. “I’ll be waiting.” He releases

  my bags and my arm and I waste no time darting away. I am so tired of

  running away.

  Chapter Ten

  Twenty minutes later I’ve changed into a simple, versatile little black

  lace dress I scored for $29 on a bargain rack. With my heels on it’s a bit

  sexy, but I tell myself I’m dressing up to feel confident, not to impress Liam.

  I’m so good at lying, I almost convince myself it’s the truth.

  I check myself in the mirror and argue with myself about ending

  things with Liam. I begin with all the reasons I don’t have to say goodbye.

  I’ve dated other men. I had a dorm mate, albeit we didn’t bond, but we

  lived together. Liam can handle himself far better than anyone I have ever

  known. But he is also the only person I’ve ever known with the resources to

  dig into my past and get himself killed in the process. People have died. I

  am not hiding for no reason. He could die. I won’t let that happen.

  Resolve in place, I head for the elevator and ride to the bottom level.

  The doors ding open and I am startled to find a denim-clad Jared standing

  there. He grins at the sight of me, all sexy male charm and hotness.

  “Ditched the t-shirt, did you?”

  “I did,” I agree, finding myself smiling despite my nerves over Liam. I

  step out of the car and expect Jared to move aside to catch the door. He

  doesn’t and we are toe to toe. The sense of familiarity with this man is

  instant, and I freeze, unable to move away. I am terrified, and not of Jared.

  Terrified of this piercing black hole that I know too well will suck me into a

  place where everything and everyone is a potential threat. I swore I would

  never return to this place but I feel the fingers of the beast reaching for me,

  pulling me inside.

  “You’re supposed to take that out of the box.”

  I blink Jared back into focus and the very fact that I have to says a lot

  about my state of mind. “Box?”

  He glances down and I briefly follow his gaze to the iPhone box I

  wasn’t able to fit into my small purse. “Oh.” I lift it slightly. “This. I like the

  box. I’m a rebel like that.”

  He laughs. “A woman out to seduce me.”

  I snort, a ridiculous sound that makes my answer all the more

  meaningful. “I’m the last person to seduce anyone.”

  His light brown eyes fill with the amusement I intended to spark.

  “You had me at the t-shirt and high heels,” he teases.

  “You are never going to let me forget that, are you?”

  “Probably not.” He flicks a quick look up and down my body. “Does

  the dress mean your things arrived okay?”

  This is almost the same question Liam asked me earlier and my mood

  swings from comfortable in our neighborly banter to completely uneasy. I

  make a weak attempt at a smile.

  “All is well in Amy-land.” I’ve barely spoken the lie when the cell

  phone begins a mocking ring from inside the box. Jared arches a brow and I

  quickly say, “Late to a dinner thing. I should run.”

  “So you have friends here already?”

  I avoid a lie I might have to remember later and shrug. “I guess the

  t-shirt and heels were an ice-breaker. I’m going to head out. Goodnight,

  Jared.”

  “Goodnight, Amy.”

  There is a softer quality to his voice I now think I’ve heard before. I

  have no idea why, but something about his tone strikes a memory and a

  chill slides up and down my spine. Spots begin to form in front of my eyes,

  and oh no. No. No. No. Let it stop now. Please let this not be happening.

  But it’s too late. The pinching sensation in my forehead I know all too well,

  but haven’t felt in years, begins to form. I sway and Jared grabs my arm.

  Reflexively, my hand goes to his chest.

  “Whoa,” he murmurs. “What just happened?”

  I can’t open my eyes. I don’t even try. “Blood sugar,” I whisper,

  reverting to the excuse I’d used years before when these spells hit me. “I’m

  fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine.” He sounds worried. Worried is not good.

  Worried will get me an ambulance and attention I don’t need.

  I inhale and the air feels like lead in my lungs, but the pain is good. It

  wakes me up and brings me back. “I am.” I force my lashes open and the

  spots begin to fade. Relief washes over me. I am already past this episode.

  “Really,” I assure Jared. “ I already feel better.” Except that my hand is on

  his chest. Appalled, I je
rk my hand back.

  He chuckles. “Easy. You’ll tumble over.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m steady now.”

  He hesitates but lets my arm go. “That kind of reaction will kill a

  man’s confidence, you know.”

  I doubt seriously this man has confidence issues. “Sorry. I was just

  embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed.” His voice is a gentle caress.

  More of that familiarity creeps into my mind and the spot in my

  forehead starts to tingle at the moment my phone starts to ring again. This

  time the sound is music to my ears, offering me a welcome escape from

  another episode and from Jared.

  Jared’s lips quirk. “You really need to ditch the box.”

  “Or get a bigger purse,” I say, sounding like a complete idiot, which

  fits perfectly with me touching a stranger’s chest. I am officially ready to get

  the heck out of here. “Thanks for the save. I’ll see you around.” I don’t wait

  for an answer. For the second time today, I take off running, only this time

  I’m running to Liam, not away from him, and that feels so much more right

  than the goodbye I have to deliver with the phone in my hand.

  In a short dash across the street, I approach the hotel in a gust of

  wind that has my dress lifting. With a gasp, I struggle to capture the skirt

  and juggle the phone. Somehow, I shove the material down and through

  the wild mass that, thanks to my new purchase, was my sleekly flat-ironed

  hair, I watch the doorman smirk and nod. Cheeks heating, I hurry past him,

  wondering if he also witnessed Liam and me tongue-dancing in front of the

  hotel earlier. This night is off to a grand start. I was right when I decided to

  change clothes. I need all the confidence I can get to survive the next

  fifteen minutes.

  Stopping inside the doorway, I spot the sign to the restaurant/bar

  directly ahead. Even here, a good twenty feet away, I can already hear the

  rumble of voices over the sound of music coming from inside the archway

  entry. I might not know Liam well, but my instincts say he will not like my

  choice of meeting location.

  As if he’s heard me, Liam exits the bar, irritation etched on his

  handsome face, and his eyes collide with mine.

  His expression softens and warms, and I watch the frustrations of

  moments before melt away, as if seeing me makes everything all right. I do

  not move to meet him, frozen in the bittersweet knowledge that seeing me