My intention had been a short kiss, just a small demonstration. But then it happened—the melt. I stood there, stunned, as her lips parted and her arms came up around my neck. I moved one hand to the back of her head, shifting the angle of my mouth to deepen the kiss.
My blood turned to fire and I could not get enough of her. She broke away for air and I bent my head, kissing the hollow of her neck. A low sigh escaped her lips and I covered her mouth with mine once more. She pressed herself up against me, tentatively, and I felt myself grow hard.
I pulled back and cleared my throat.
“So, uh. There you have it. A proper kiss.”
She stood there, blinking at me.
“I’m just going to run down to the kitchen and get some water. You want anything?”
She shook her head slowly, running her thumb over her bottom lip, still not saying a word. I backed away from her, turned the knob, and slipped out of the room.
CHAPTER NINE
Maggie
That was a kiss?
I sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the closed door. My heart was racing and I was finding it difficult to breathe. I crawled under the covers and turned off the bedside light, staring at the ceiling and wondering if I should fake sleep when Liam got back.
In a million years, I’d never expected him to kiss me. In a million years, I never thought I’d like it. But I had liked it. A lot. He’d been so right in his description about the melting together. I had never experienced that before. And when he traced the bottom of my lip with his tongue? Holy shit. My belly did a little flip at the memory, and I slid my hand under the covers, reaching down between my legs, surprised to find myself damp. I pushed aside my panties and slid one finger across my opening, so slick and ready.
I shifted a little, careful not to make any noise as I ran my thumb lightly over my clitoris, arching my back at the unexpected pleasure that coursed through me. I swallowed and glanced at the door, eyes wide open but my head filled with images of Liam towering over me, his hands in my hair, his tongue in my mouth.
The door burst open and light poured into the room. I pulled my hand out from between my legs and rolled over onto my side, hoping he hadn’t seen anything. He quietly closed the door and made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor, noisily adjusting the covers and fluffing the pillows. I closed my eyes, torn between trying to ignore the dull ache between my legs and wishing he’d go to sleep so I could finish what I’d started.
*
The next morning, Liam was gone by the time I woke up. There was a note on the bedside table: Had to open today. See you at dinner. I said a silent prayer of thanks that I didn’t have to face him first thing in the morning. And then I threw in an extra prayer, asking that this be his schedule for the week.
I got up, showered, and went downstairs to make breakfast for my parents. I found them already seated at the table, their home-brought newspapers unfolded before them, and their home-sent breakfast supplements half-finished.
“Oh, sweetheart. We didn’t wait because we didn’t know what time you’d be up,” my mother said.
I forced a smile and went over to the coffee machine. I was pretty sure it must’ve been Liam who made the coffee. That kind of consideration wasn’t my parents’ style. I poured myself a cup and joined them at the table.
“I do have to work, you know,” I said.
“Do you? Oh, that’s a pity. We hoped you’d take the week off,” my mother said.
“Sorry. Can’t do it. It’s tourist season. The hotel is busy.”
“You wouldn’t need the hotel if you got a real job,” my father interjected.
“Daddy. I don’t want to start this again. I’m writing a book. I don’t want any other kind of job.”
“Where’s Liam?” my mother asked.
“He left for work. He opens the restaurant on Tuesdays. We’ll see him at dinner.”
“He’s quite something,” my father muttered.
“I will take that as a compliment. Because I’m sure you’ve looked past the tattoos and the salty language and found that he’s a decent human being.”
I got up, grabbed my bag, and stormed out of the house.
*
I was stocking the hospitality cart with folded towels when Tammy came to find me on her break.
“Hey, girl,” she said, sidling up beside me. “How’s the fauxmance going?”
I laughed.
“So far, so good. My parents seem to buying it.”
“Have you fucked him yet?”
I turned to her, trying my best to look indignant.
“No, I have not. I told you, that’s not part of the deal.”
Tammy just shook her head.
“Nope. I’m sorry. There is no way that man is spending a week in your bedroom and you’re not fucking him. You just tell me when it happens.”
She walked away, towards the elevators, and I called out after her, “Never going to happen.”
While I was confident in that proclamation, I had to admit I’d been thinking about that kiss all day. I picked up my phone to text him a million times, but what was I going to say? Hey, great kiss? He’d kissed hundreds of women, I was pretty sure ours hadn’t exactly been a stand-out for him.
I rolled the cart back into place and took the stairs to the locker room. After changing out of my uniform, I headed home to meet my parents and get ready for dinner.
*
We met Justin at the restaurant and there was a whole scene as my parents fussed over him, the golden child. He shot me an apologetic look, but it wasn’t his fault. As the firstborn son, thirteen years my senior, he could do no wrong. I’d spent my whole life being measured against his accomplishments but had nevertheless managed to carve out a relationship of my own with my parents. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something we were all able to live with. Most of the time.
Jen greeted us at the door and showed us to the best table in the house. Adam, the owner, came over to say hello and meet my parents. He and Justin had met when Adam hired my brother’s sous-chef, Toni, for Cagney’s. There were no hard feelings, though, so the drinks flowed freely.
My dad and Justin spent most of the meal catching up, talking sports and politics. I tried to keep to myself, well-aware this was one of the week’s rare times I wasn’t the focus of my parents’ interrogations.
“The food is quite good,” my mother commented.
“Liam is the best chef in the area,” Justin said. “Mags here landed a good one.”
“He does seem interesting,” my father agreed.
After dessert was served, Liam came out of the kitchen to say hello. My parents complimented him on the meal and he was equally courteous with them. He and Justin talked shop for a few minutes, and then he stood up to go.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. Duty calls. And Toni’s off tonight, so I’ve got to close. I won’t be home until late.”
He directed that last part to me, and I nodded like the dutiful girlfriend. We had not exchanged one word since the kiss, and I was struggling to remain casual. He leaned over to kiss me goodbye, and I offered him my cheek. But he took my chin in his hand and turned my head to face his, then kissed me softly on the mouth before walking away.
Justin stepped on my foot under the table, hard.
“Ow!” I said.
Everyone turned to look at me, except for Liam. He looked directly at Justin, catching his eye. Justin shot him a warning look, and Liam grinned, turning to walk away. We all watched as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping several times to greet guests as he weaved his way through the tables. I couldn’t take my eyes off his ass. How had I never noticed it before?
“Maggie? Maggie? Did you hear me?” my mother asked.
I hadn’t heard a word she said.
*
As we left the restaurant, Justin pulled me aside.
“What the hell was that?” he hissed in my ear.
“That was my boyfriend giving me
a kiss goodbye,” I said.
“On the mouth?” he said, incredulous.
“Hey. Liam was your idea. Don’t throw this in my face. You knew who he was when you suggested this.”
Justin stared at me as our parents walked ahead.
“Did you sleep with that motherfucker?”
“NO! Not that it’s any of your business. But no. We are putting on a show for Mommy and Daddy. That’s it. Just leave it.”
We started walking, not really trying to catch up but eager to keep our parents in view. Justin had parked outside the restaurant, but clearly wasn’t going anywhere until he was satisfied his baby sister was safe.
“Shit. I guess I really didn’t think this through,” he mumbled.
“Justin. I’m not interested in him. He is not my type. You’ve known me my whole life, you know this. Stop worrying.”
“You don’t understand guys like this. They have a way about them. Just do me a favour. Promise me you won’t believe a damn thing that comes out of his mouth.”
“Seriously?” I said.
“Yes. Seriously. Just promise me, Mags. Don’t get mixed up with him.”
“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
CHAPTER TEN
Liam
It was close to eleven when I got home from the restaurant, and I found Maggie’s father on the couch, half-asleep, watching TV. My plan to accidentally fall asleep on the couch and avoid confronting that kiss for a little while longer was shot to hell.
“Hey, that’s not so bad. When you said late, I was picturing long after midnight,” Mr. Grant said.
“Well, benefits of a small town. Things close down relatively early. At least during the week. I hope you enjoyed your meal.”
“It was great. Really. Nice job.”
I smiled my thanks and walked through towards the stairs. I went up slowly so as not to make too much noise. With any luck, she’d be asleep. I eased open the bedroom door and the lights were off, the room quiet. I breathed a sigh of relief and went in, grabbing a shirt and heading for the bathroom.
When I came out, I saw the mattress had already been pulled out. I noticed the first night when she got into her own bed she’d decided not to fight me on the sleeping arrangements. I got in and pulled up the sheet, staring at the ceiling and wondering how to handle this situation.
That kiss had been more than I’d expected. Bluntly, it had knocked me off my feet. I was finding it hard to even look at Maggie without wanting to touch her. It killed me to think that she disliked the idea of sex. That someone, or more than one someone, had so completely fucked it up with her that she actually thought she was better off without it. She’d been so damn responsive to that kiss I knew I could prove her wrong. And I had only five days left to do it.
I had a moment of moral contemplation. She was innocent. I was not. Could I really get involved with this woman for five nights without worrying she’d read something more into it? She, of the ‘oh, I want a romantic love’ mentality?
“Em,” I whispered. “You up?”
It was quiet for so long I figured she was asleep.
“Yeah, I’m up.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you ever had an orgasm?”
I heard the blankets rustle as she sat up in bed.
“What?”
“You heard me. Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Well, of course. What kind of question is that?” she demanded.
“So, you’re saying another human being made you come, and you didn’t enjoy it?”
There was a long pause.
“I said I’d had an orgasm. But only the self-inflicted kind.”
I laughed out loud and sat up, looking for her in the dark.
“Jesus Christ. Self-inflicted? You make it sound like a wound to avoid at all costs.”
“Well, you know what I mean,” she said.
“I suppose. So you do masturbate?”
“Liam, I don’t like you enough to get into this line of questioning.”
“Research. Answer the question.”
I heard an exasperated sigh and smiled to myself.
“Yes, I masturbate.”
“And you enjoy it?”
“I do.”
“So what makes you think that you wouldn’t enjoy the same activity with a partner?”
“Why won’t you let this go?” There was almost a pleading tone to her voice.
“Because I think you’re a great writer. And you could be a great romance writer. You just need to spice it up a bit.”
“That’s what I need. A man telling me how to write romance books that other women will read.”
“Fuck, Maggie, that’s not what I meant.”
“Anyway, it’s irrelevant. I’ve never been with a man that’s touched me the way I touch myself.”
My dick sprang to attention. I tried to swallow over the lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat. I was grateful for the darkness.
“Why don’t you show me?” I asked, trying my best to sound casual.
“Excuse me?”
“If you show me how you like to be touched, I bet I can make you come. And it will be just as good, if not better, than what you can pull off on your own.”
“No. That’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t be so quick to turn me down. Think about it. I’m offering you a no-strings-attached orgasm. In a few days, you’ll never have to see me again. Imagine what it could do for your writing.”
She didn’t say another word, so I lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for her to fall asleep.
*
When I woke up the next morning, I could hear Maggie in the shower. We had still not been alone together, face-to-face in daylight hours, since the kiss. I contemplated slipping out of the room but decided not to be such a fucking coward. Two nights were already gone, I had four to go. If I was going to get anywhere with her, it was time to man up.
I got up and pushed the mattress back under the bed. I pulled on a pair of shorts but no T-shirt. I knew my assets. I made the bed for her, then sat down to wait for my turn in the shower.
She came out a few minutes later, wrapped in a terry robe, hair up in a towel. There was nothing between her and me but the soft white belt looped around her waist. One tug—
“You need the shower?” she asked.
I snapped out of it and stood up, grabbing my clothes and heading into the bathroom.
“What’s your schedule?” I asked.
“I’ve got to be at the hotel in an hour. You?”
“Restaurant at noon. Toni’s doing the prep this morning.”
“Okay. I’ll go down and start the coffee, we’ll put on a little show for my folks, then go our separate ways?”
“Sounds good.”
“You working tonight?” she asked.
“Just through dinner. I should be back by eight.”
*
When I got down to the kitchen, the Grants were seated around the table, eating their breakfast and discussing plans for the day. Maggie was at the counter, buttering some toast. I walked up behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her behind the ear.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
I saw the goosebumps rise along the back of her neck and smiled to myself. I ran my hand up her back, squeezing her shoulder before going to grab a cup of coffee. She shot me a little side-eye, but I ignored her, chuckling to myself. While in the shower, I’d devised my plan. I had made my offer, and she’d shot me down. Now it was time for her to come to me. And I had no qualms about playing dirty.
I opened the overhead cabinet and reached up for a mug, flexing my bicep in the process. They said women had tools at their disposal? So did men. I learned that secret a long time ago. I filled my cup and joined the Grants at the table, reaching for a bagel and taking a bite.
“So? Hiking? Is that what I’m hearing?” I asked, chipper as fuck.
&nb
sp; “That’s the plan. Maggie tells us there’s a flat trail around somewhere?” Mr. Grant said.
“Yup. Leads right to the beach. Perfect for a day like today. Bring your swimsuits and you can cool off when you’re done. Just be warned—the lake is freezing this early in the season.”
“Oh, I don’t think we’ll be swimming,” Mrs. Grant laughed.
I looked at her appraisingly.
“Come on, Mrs. G. You must look smoking in a bathing suit.”
She blushed and buried her face in her newspaper. Her husband looked at her, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Finished creating her toast Picasso, Maggie grabbed her plate and walked over to the table. Before she could get to her seat, I reached out and pulled her onto my lap. A surprised look flashed across her face, but she recovered quickly and settled in, taking a bite of her toast.
Her father glanced over his newspaper, gave me a quick look, then turned back to his news. Her mother was going on about some particular birds she was hoping to see on the trail. I was occupying myself with Maggie’s freshly-shampooed hair. She smelled fabulous.
I put down my coffee cup and casually placed my hand on her leg. She stiffened but kept eating her breakfast, trying her damnedest to ignore me. She couldn’t fool me. I could feel her pulse quickening through her back, against my chest. I wrapped the arm around her waist a little tighter, drawing her even closer. Then I let that other hand trail up her thigh.
She took a sharp breath in, then shifted in my lap. Bingo. She casually put down her toast and placed her hand on top of mine, firmly pressing down to stop me from progressing any further north. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “The things I could do—”
She shot up, causing the cutlery by her plate to fall to the ground. The loud noise caused both her parents to look up.
“What is it, dear?” her mother asked.
A Dash of Romance Page 4