“Not you…just them.” He pulled her gently back to her chair.
“I want you in a cab…with me.” Her eyes went wide but there was no protest, no hesitation. She sat down.
“Oh.” Her voice was breathy, barely a whisper.
He did kiss her this time, lightly, brushing his lips across hers, his tongue sliding briefly across her lower lip. He could taste the alcohol from her drink, but he could also taste the sweetness of her lips. There was a pleasant tightening across the front of his jeans as he grew hard, a sense of familiar heat as arousal flashed through his body.
He pulled back and watched as she leaned toward him again, slowly opening her eyes. She looked up at him, her desires written across her face, in her eyes.
“Okay…yeah.” She smiled, her face suddenly flushed with color.
Liam fished out his cell phone, making the call for the cabs.
The other girls were back from the restroom, milling about, chattering. It took a minute for them to realize they weren’t all leaving together. Laura pulled Angela aside while Rachel leaned drunkenly against Liam.
“Make sure she gets home safely.” She giggled and Liam steered her toward the door, guiding her out to the sidewalk without letting her fall down.
Laura quickly appeared outside as well, a stern look on her face. Apparently the outcome of her conversation with Angela wasn’t to her liking. She shot Liam a black look before standing next to Rachel.
Angela stood next to Liam. “Trouble with the girls?” He nodded toward the other two.
“Mother hen.” Angela looked up at him. “Apparently no good will come of this.” She giggled, then shook her head.
“They worry. It’s what friends do.” She pulled herself up straight, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“But I can take care of myself.”
Liam wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.
The first cab appeared and the two girls crawled inside. Liam closed the cab door, watching briefly as it pulled away. He turned back to Angela, holding her gaze for a moment.
“Our cab should be here in a few minutes.” He took a step toward her, one hand on her arm. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face.
It was so easy to pull her to him, to bend his head, find her lips with his. And she let him, seemed powerless to stop herself. He didn’t think it was the booze; she was tipsy, but not drunk. Just relaxed enough.
There was something there though, she wanted what he had to offer, and Liam was never one to pass up an opportunity. He read people…especially women…very well. He hadn’t gotten this far with them…or in life…by being wrong.
He ran his lips across hers, the softest lips he’d ever felt. His hands had come up to her shoulders, moving further, caressing her neck, his fingers finally running through that beautiful silky blonde hair.
Without hesitation, she parted her lips, her tongue briefly brushing against his. There was a moment where everything faded; it was just her, and him, the feel of her hair in his hands, her lips warm against his, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. There was a swell of arousal in his body, that feeling…something almost giddy, that first flush of certainty of where this night would be headed. The promise born out of that kiss. He loved it, loved that feeling. Things might be more intense later…would definitely be more intense, but that first flush was something he craved.
The blare of a car horn made Angela jump in his arms. The cab was idling at the curb, the driver impatient.
Liam held Angela’s face between his hands, his eyes on hers. “Come home with me.”
He held the door for her, letting her climb in the back seat. He gave the driver his address and before she could say anything, pulled her against him, his mouth again claiming hers.
The ride was mercifully short, both for Liam’s wallet and for his plans for bedding Angela. They managed to get to his third floor walk-up, locked in an embrace, without falling down the stairs. He’d barely gotten the door closed behind them, throwing the deadbolt home, before his hands found her, pulling at her blouse, sliding up her skirt, his fingers working beneath the fabric of her panties.
At the touch of his fingers on her skin, Angela broke away, gasping. Her eyes were dark, but she was suddenly skittish, spooked by his intensity. Back off a bit, let her take the lead.
He held her hands, leading her to the couch, brushing a pile of magazines to the floor. He cursed his terrible housekeeping, wondered briefly if the sheets on the bed were clean…decided they were clean enough…and then pulled her down to the couch.
Despite his racing heart, his attraction for this girl, Liam was gentle, his lips moving slowly over her neck and face, holding her against him, letting her slowly undo the buttons on his shirt before shrugging out of it. She ran her hands over his skin, her fingers tracing the ragged scar that ran across his chest. There was a moment when she looked up at him, the question in her eyes and on her lips, but he pulled her to him, distracting her with a kiss, before she could ask about it…or notice the other scars.
He pressed her slowly back onto the couch, his fingers deftly unbuttoning her blouse, pulling the fabric away from her body. Liam looked down, his breath catching in his throat.
Angela was wearing a lacy black bra and for some reason, finding such an erotic garment on this innocent woman surprised him. He found himself smiling as he ran his hands over the fabric, feeling the heat of her skin beneath his fingers, the fullness of her breasts fueling his arousal.
“What?” Angela’s voice was soft, clouded with hesitation.
He met her eyes. “You. This…” Liam leaned forward, kissing the edge of the bra, his lips trailing across her soft skin.
“I wasn’t expecting this…I mean, I was expecting a bra…but…” He laughed softly, shaking his head. Angela’s frown deepened.
“I’m not always good with words. What I meant to say is you’re beautiful. And this just makes you more beautiful.” He kissed the round top of one breast again, watching her face as he placed a trail of kisses on her pale skin.
He caught her smiling, the doubt leaving her eyes. Better…
He lifted his head. “But…as beautiful as it is, it has to go.” He watched her for a moment, searching her face, testing the waters. He’d never been this cautious with a woman, so careful of how she felt, and he really didn’t know why. With most women, he just took what he wanted. But now wasn’t the time to analyze his motives.
Angela nodded. He undid the clasp at the front, pulling away the sheer fabric.
“Even more beautiful…” Liam growled, bending his head again, kissing his way down to one rose-colored nipple, circling it with his tongue, feeling it grow hard at his touch. Angela sighed, arching her back. He moved to the other breast, kissing a soft line to that nipple, flicking it with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth.
As he drew her further into his mouth, caressing her with his tongue, as the softness of her skin brushed against his cheek, he felt something course through him, equal parts fierce and tender. For a moment it was utterly overwhelming, foreign yet hauntingly familiar. He wanted to pull her to him, bury his face in her breasts and lose himself. He’d sucked on women’s tits before, played with countless breasts, but now, with Angela, it was different. It wasn’t just foreplay, it went deeper.
There was something about Angela, a feeling that calmed him even as she excited him more than any woman ever had. No woman had ever made him feel so much, so soon. On some level…hell, on many levels, this unnerved him.
But he wanted more and he wanted it now; his body was taking the lead, impatient to move this forward. He sat up, pulling Angela with him.
“Come with me.” His voice was rough; even he could sense the immediacy in his demand. She looked up at him, her eyes going wide for just a moment, before they darkened, mirroring his desire. He knew then that she understood there was no turning back. He didn’t think she wanted to stop but he wasn’t completely sure. Angela was
like no other woman he’d ever been with, something complex and unreadable in her.
She let him lead her to his bedroom. There was no hesitation now as he tugged her skirt down over her hips, as his fingers slid beneath the elastic of her lacy panties. He was vaguely aware they matched her bra, but they…and that thought…were gone in an instant.
Angela’s fingers were struggling with the zipper and snap of his jeans. He looked down, the bulge of his erection huge against her delicate hands. As much as he wanted to help, as much as he ached to have her touching him, stroke him, the feather-light touches of her fingers as they accidentally brushed against him was exquisite torture. She finally undid everything and he tugged his jeans down. At the first touch of her soft fingers on his flesh, he exhaled a long breath, watching as she held him.
Liam’s hands were on Angela’s shoulders, his fingers flexing against her skin. She looked up at him and in that instant he saw she was ready for whatever came next.
He kissed her hard, the gentleness gone, claiming her lips, his tongue plundering her accepting mouth. She met him fully, her kiss as insistent as his, her tongue thrust into his mouth.
Liam pulled her hard against him, molding her softness against his hard body. Her hands came up to his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck, fingers winding through his hair. He wanted to touch every part of her, to crush her against his body, feel the soft fullness of her breasts against his chest, his cock against her stomach, her ass in his hands.
He broke away from her with a gasp, picking her up and carrying her to his bed. She rested her head against his shoulder briefly before he set her on the sheets, a gesture so full of trust he suddenly found himself almost overwhelmed with emotion.
She lay on his bed, holding out her arms. He climbed beside her, letting her wrap him in her embrace, his head on her shoulder. His body was insistent, hers as well. He could feel her hips shifting beneath him, her legs moving restlessly on the bed. The scent of her perfume was everywhere, something delicate and floral over something deep and spicy, still driving him wild.
His lips found her breasts again, the longing still there, but his desire to take her stronger now. Moving over her, he settled between her legs. She wrapped them around his waist, pulling him down to her. Her eyes were locked with his; he could read the passion and arousal in those green depths.
Liam shifted his hips, sliding himself slowly into Angela, the brief thought that she might be a virgin hovering in his mind. But she wasn’t; he’d been with enough to know.
He watched her eyes widen, her lips part as she exhaled, as he thrust himself fully into her. For the moment this was enough, holding her, looking down at her, sheathed in her body.
But the ache he felt, the desire for more was stronger. Liam pulled back before thrusting hard into Angela, feeling her body respond to his, her hips rising to meet him, pushing back, accepting and then asking for more.
It wasn’t long before they were locked in a primal dance. Liam was surprised by her sudden aggression; her hands were everywhere, raking over his back, clutching his hips, her lips seeking his mouth.
Pulling away, he held himself above her, bracing himself on his knees, pushing her legs further apart. He wanted to watch her face, watch himself as he slid into her, to see what he was doing to her. And to watch her body responding to him.
“Oh…” Liam looked up, startled. Angela’s eyes were wide; she was watching as well, her eyes riveted on him, on his movements between her legs.
Her eyes rose to his. “I’ve never…it’s never been…this…” She swallowed, closing her eyes. A flush rose in her cheeks and he stilled himself. He wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong, if she was suddenly scared, wanted to stop…he didn’t quite get this girl yet.
With her eyes still closed, she spoke, her voice just above a whisper. “I’ve never seen what…this looks like.”
Liam waited, aching to move, afraid he had scared her. She opened her eyes, her gaze locked with his, passion flaring in her eyes.
“Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t, until he took them both to the edge. Angela cried out first, arching up beneath him, her hands clutching the sheets. He held himself above her, watching her face as she twisted, muscles taut. There was a moment where he felt her contract around him, pulling him deeper. The sensation of feeling her orgasm almost took him over his own precipice, but he wanted to wait, wanted to let her enjoy herself before taking his own pleasure.
She cried out once more, one more wave passing through her before he felt the tension leave her limbs. He held himself still inside of her, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm against his own body.
Angela looked up, her eyes searching his. She reached for him and he lowered himself against her body, feeling the weight of her breasts crushed his chest, her hands sliding over his back, moving up to caress his face. He could hear her voice, wordless noises in his ear, her hips rising, urging him to his own release. And he accepted what she had to offer.
When he came, it was more powerful than anything he’d experienced in a long time. He spent himself inside her, his body shuddering uncontrollably, his sounds muffled against her neck. It seemed to go on forever, his body trembling, his hips flexing as he drove himself into Angela until there was no more need.
She was still holding him, her arms wrapped around his body, hands splayed across his back. He lifted his head, looking at her in the light from the window, the relentless light he cursed nightly, despite the curtains, but the light that now let him see her face.
“Thank you.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized it. He shook his head, scowling. What the hell was that? You don’t thank a girl for sex.
“You’re welcome.” Angela’s voice was low, a smile on her lips. “And thank you, too.”
Her smile deepened. She ran her fingers over his face, easing them across his forehead.
“I meant…” Liam rolled on his back, looking out the window.
He felt her shift next to him, the swayback mattress dipping as she curled next to him, her head on his shoulder.
“You meant what?” Her fingers were tracing the line of the scar on his chest. He put his hand over hers, holding her fingers, stilling them against his chest. He knew she’d ask about the scar, how he got it. Most girls…the girls who stayed, anyway…always asked. He usually gave them a shortened version of the truth: it was a knife cut. He never told them who held the knife though, or why.
But for some reason, right now, he didn’t want to give Angela any version. He was still coming down from the high he’d experienced with her. He wanted to enjoy that, enjoy the feeling of her next to him. And not ruin that with ancient history.
Liam turned toward her, holding her fingers to his lips. He took a deep breath. There was a sense letting go of something, something he’d held on to for a long time.
“I meant thank you. I don’t…it’s not something I say very often. Or ever.” He blew out a breath.
“You’re a complex man, Liam Cross.” Angela went quiet. It wasn’t long before she was breathing softly, asleep with her head still on his shoulder, her fingers wrapped in his.
Liam lay in the dark for a long time, his mind going over what had happened. He’d met a girl; that wasn’t unusual. He’d taken her home; he did that all the time. But what he felt was nothing like anything he’d ever felt before. And it scared him.
* * *
Something wasn’t right. Angela rolled over, her arm shielding her eyes. It was bright, too bright. Her room had blackout drapes, and was dark in the morning. At least until Sophie opened them. But then, Sophie usually brought her tea and a scone, or a muffin. We’re not in Manhattan anymore, Angela.
There was a dull pounding in her head. She rubbed her temples, thinking back over the previous night out with her friends.
And her eyes flew open. It all came back; she’d gone home with someone, with Liam.
There’d been the guys in the street, guys taun
ting them, intent on having their way. And then Liam had shown up…there’d been a fight, he had scared the guys off. She cringed. He’d done it with such ease and grace, but at the time she hadn’t thought much about how aggressive…how violent…he’d been.
The sound of breathing nudged her out of her thoughts. She turned; Liam was sleeping beside her, his dark hair tousled, one arm wrapped loosely around a pillow. She watched him for a moment, struck by how handsome he was. Even in sleep his lips were curved in a seductive smile.
It had been hard to keep her eyes off of him at the bar. There was unpredictable quality to Liam, a look held deep in his blue eyes, the curve of his lips. She’d wanted to reach out, to touch that fire, and see what it would be like. She’d never met anyone like Liam; the guys she knew were all predictable and safe, boring…Liam seemed anything but boring.
But now, his face relaxed in sleep, he looked less dangerous, but no less handsome. Maybe dangerous in a different sort of way.
He’d taken them to some bar, a real dive. She remembered Rachel saying something about celebrating or thanking Liam for rescuing them. They’d talked at the bar, some of it was hazy…and then she’d gone back to his apartment. And had sex with him. She smiled. That part I remember…
She shook her head. This was so totally unlike her. There had been boyfriends, all boys her parents approved of, clean cut, wearing suits, who worked at banks or law firms, all safe, with promising career paths. All with money. All able to buy her whatever she wanted, just like her father bought her everything she wanted. Except his love.
There didn’t appear to be anything safe about Liam. That sent a thrill through her, awakened a deep, dark longing inside, which excited her…and scared her. He was so different than any boy she’d dated. She guessed he was her age, somewhere in his mid-twenties, but he seemed older. The difference between her boyfriends and Liam was startling. The boys she’d dated all seemed just that…boys. Liam was a man. A man she found incredibly attractive.
Fight For You Page 2