by Katie McCoy
But this dress—a blue sparkly number that showed off her legs and shoulders—this was my favorite thing she had worn so far.
Well, not counting the memory of her in a black lace thong, stilettos, and nothing else, her hair spread out across the cushions of her couch. That was definitely my favorite look of hers.
This one was a close second, though.
She was wearing her hair down, her bangs giving her a classic look, her dark shimmering hair fanning out across her shoulders. The dress hugged her body, while also emphasizing her dancer’s figure—her long neck and elegant shoulders.
“Wow,” I finally managed, realizing that I was staring.
“Thank you,” she said, blushing. “Wow to you too.” She glanced up at me. “I like the tie.”
Score one for Hayley, I thought as I took Juliet’s arm.
“I thought I’d take you to one of the best restaurants in Chicago,” I told her as we walked out of her apartment, but her attention was focused down the block, at the collection of food trucks and people gathered there.
“What’s that?” she asked.
I had driven past it on my way to pick her up.
“I think it’s a food festival or something,” I said, leading her to the car.
But she had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, obviously interested in the delicious smells wafting towards us from the other end of the block. The street party was noisy and crowded, and I could already tell that Juliet would love to check it out.
“Want to go there instead?” I suggested impulsively.
So what if we skipped out on the reservation? Something about Juliet made me want to throw caution to the wind, and if that took the form of going to a food truck festival instead of a fancy restaurant, then so be it.
Juliet practically skipped in the direction of the food truck, and her excitement was contagious. Once we reached the block where all the activity was, she stopped, looking around her with her eyes wide.
“What should we get first?” she wanted to know.
I glanced around. There were at least twenty different food trucks with a wide range of options.
“Why don’t we try something from each of them?” I suggested.
She looked at me as if I had just offered her a diamond necklace. “Could we?” she asked, so excited that it made me laugh.
“Of course,” I told her. “That’s the best thing about being an adult—you get to eat whatever you want. And however much you want.”
“Is that the sign of being an adult?” she joked. “I was wondering when I’d finally feel like one.”
There was a sweet wistfulness to her voice. I liked it.
We went around to each food truck, carefully examining the menu and debating which item to get from each truck. “I can’t choose,” she sighed as we were trying to decide between mac and cheese balls and mini grilled cheeses from a comfort food style food truck.
“You have to,” I told her.
“Why can’t we get both?” she wanted to know.
“Because we need to have some rules,” I countered. “Otherwise things will just get out of control.”
“Isn’t that kind of point?” she asked. “Losing control?”
It was a pointed question. One I didn’t know how to answer.
12
Juliet
The anticipation was killing me. I watched Liam’s face as he struggled with what should have been a simple, innocent question about ordering food. But we both knew it was so much more.
“I’m making an executive decision,” Liam finally said. “We’re going with the mac and cheese balls.”
It wasn’t really the answer I was looking for, but what girl said no to mac and cheese balls? Not me.
Besides, the evening was going great. I was pretty sure that Liam had a different plan for the night, but he seemed to be having fun anyways. I was having a blast. The food truck festival was exactly the kind of thing I would have missed out on when I was dancing—I was always in rehearsal or performing. And not eating. I never had free time to stumble upon something like this. And spending it with Liam just made it all the better. I was having a great time with him, though I was also about to crawl out of my skin with desire. Every time his hand touched mine, or he reached over to brush crumbs from the corner of my mouth, my entire body started to tingle.
He was so freaking hot in his suit and funky checkered tie that I just wanted to drag him back to my place and have my naughty, naughty way with him. It was hard to concentrate on anything else.
We had made our way through most of the food trucks and had moved on to dessert. We got churro tots at one truck and ice cream at another. I personally had my eye on a particular mouthwatering morsel, but Liam didn’t seem in any rush to leave the food truck festival.
“Can I ask you about dance?” he wanted to know, as we wandered through the crowd.
“You can,” I told him. “I might not answer all your questions though.”
He grinned at me. I liked making him smile.
“Do you miss it?” he asked.
It was a heavy question—and one I had been asked many, many times. I had always answered the same way: “No, I don’t miss it. I’m really excited for this next stage in my life, and will always be grateful for everything I learned, but it’s time to move on.”
I could have given Liam the same answer I gave everyone else. I thought about it. But instead, I decided to be honest.
“I do miss it,” I told him. “Sometimes I miss it so much that it hurts.”
It was a brutally raw answer, and I watched his face, waiting to see how he’d respond. Most people didn’t want to know the truth, especially when it came to someone else’s experiences. They weren’t asking because they actually cared—they were asking because they knew they should. So they didn’t really want an honest answer.
But then again, Liam had already seen me freak out about ballet, so I had a feeling that if I lied to him, he’d see right through me. I also didn’t want to lie to him. I wanted to be completely honest, completely open with him. And I hoped he would do the same.
“I can understand that,” he finally said. “It must be extremely painful to lose something you worked so hard for.”
I nodded. “It was. It is. But it gets a little better every day. I’m starting to do a whole bunch of things that I had missed out on when I was dancing.”
“Like what?” he wanted to know.
“Like this.” I gestured around us. “Just spending a night wandering around Chicago. I was always busy with rehearsals or performances, and the nights that I wasn’t, I usually had an early call, so I was in bed before ten. I never felt like I had the time to just do things.”
“Any other unexpected perks to becoming a retired ballerina?” Liam asked.
“The food.” I grinned, holding up my ice cream. “I’ve basically been on a diet the past ten years of my life. There were costumes that I had to fit into, and the last thing you want to be is the ballerina that always needs her costumes let out.”
Liam chuckled. “I would have never thought about that.”
“I might be enjoying it too much, though,” I told him. “I barely fit into most of my clothes.”
“I think you fit into them just fine,” Liam said, with a sexy gleam in his eye.
“Oh yeah?” I flirted back.
“You look pretty good out of them as well,” he added.
I flushed, remembering exactly what had happened when he had gotten me out of my clothes. My entire body was primed with anticipation, and I couldn’t take the waiting anymore. I decided to be a little bit forward—it seemed that Liam had responded to that in the past.
“I’d like to return the favor,” I told him, lowering my voice to a husky murmur.
Liam’s eyes grew dark with desire.
“My place isn’t very far from here,” he told me.
“Lead the way,” I ordered.
Liam’s apartment was incredible. It
was a beautiful penthouse along the water with an amazing view. I could have stood and stared out his floor-to-ceiling windows all day. Not that the view inside the apartment was any less spectacular.
Liam had taken his jacket off when we arrived, draping it across one of the chairs in his dining room. Because he actually had a dining room, the open-plan space connecting the modern kitchen with the expansive living area. He rolled up his sleeves and I found myself mesmerized by the sight of the muscles flexing in his forearms. It was damn sexy, but then again, everything he did was sexy.
“Your place is beautiful,” I told him.
“Thank you,” he said. “I worked hard to get it.”
“I can tell.” I looked around at all the beautiful art and minimalist yet masculine furniture. Clearly this was something that Liam had been working towards for a long time.
And I could see him in every inch of the spacious—and spotless—apartment. Everything seemed to have its place, and everything was very clearly in that place. This was a man who liked order and tidiness. Who liked to be in control.
I got a little shiver thinking that he might like to be in control in other areas.
Liam pushed back from the counter he had been leaning on and came towards me. The look in his eyes told me that he wanted me. And he was going to have me. Now.
He looped his finger into the neckline of my dress and gave it a tug, causing me to fall forward into his arms. Then he captured my mouth with his.
He kissed me with intensity, with authority. He knew what he wanted. He kissed me hard, his hands gripping my hips as he backed me up against a wall. He took control of my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine as he deepened the kiss.
I kissed him back, pouring all my desire, all my need into it. I wanted him so badly it ached—that ache starting between my legs and spreading throughout my body until I didn’t think I could take it anymore. Thankfully, that’s when Liam swung me up into his arms and carried me into his bedroom.
The room suited him. It was sexy and masculine, with an enormous king-sized bed covered in navy sheets and low, soft lights. He lay me out on the bed, and followed me down, his long, hard body spread out on top of mine as he kissed me deeply.
“This dress is gorgeous,” he murmured, his fingers teasing the neckline. “I’ll buy you another one.”
Then, he ripped it straight down the middle. I lay there, wearing nothing but a black silk thong—which was now completely soaked—so turned on I couldn’t see straight. I knew that Liam liked to be in control—and I had hoped that it would be the same in the bedroom—but this was already better and sexier than I had imagined.
His large hands encircled my wrists, pinning my hands to the bed next to my shoulders. Then he bent his head and took one of my nipples into his mouth. My body had been anticipating his touch for hours—was primed and ready—but still, nothing could prepare me for how unbelievably hot it was.
He swirled his tongue around the hard peak of my nipple, teasing me with his teeth as he dragged them along my sensitive flesh. I squirmed beneath him, my breath coming out of me in hard, guttural pants. Sensations swirled inside of me, desire spreading through me like a fire. I was so hot, and yet it still wasn’t enough. Liam brought me to the edge over and over again with his tongue, but he wouldn’t give me any relief.
I strained against his grip, though I loved how strong he was, my hands longing to touch him. Finally, I told him so, my voice raspy from need.
“Please,” I begged. “I want to touch you.”
I felt him smile against my breast, and he released his hold on me. I immediately reached for that tie of his—the one that had been taunting me all evening. I yanked it off, tossing it to one side of the room. And then, as retribution for ripping my dress, I did what I had wanted to do the first time we had been alone together. I grabbed either side of his shirt and gave it a massive tug.
Buttons flew across the room.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I told him, giving him a cheeky grin.
He just gave me a wolfish grin in return, and then I was on my back again, his naked chest against mine, my overly sensitive nipples dragging against his smooth, hard chest. I wanted more. I needed more.
My hands went for his belt buckle, fumbling to undo it, and then pausing just for a moment before unbuttoning his pants and sliding the zipper down. I could feel how much he wanted me, but I didn’t want any more fabric between us. Sliding my hand into his trousers, I drew my palm around his thick, hard cock, the feeling of him silky smooth against my hand.
Liam’s breath was a sharp intake of air as I touched him, and I loved that I was making him lose control, if only a little. He let me stroke him once, twice, before he pushed my hands away and stripped the rest of his clothes off. Then, he was reaching across me, pulling out a condom from his beside drawer.
“Let me,” I said, taking the condom from him.
I’d never been so forward in bed. But I liked it, and I sensed that Liam—for all his need for control and dominance—liked it too. So long as at the end, he was still the one on top.
Though, I didn’t think he would mind if I was on top once in a while.
I ripped open the condom package and slid the latex over his cock, giving it a squeeze before I finished. Liam let out a low groan, one that started deep in his throat, before he pressed me back against the bed, kissing me deeply.
I wrapped my legs around his back, feeling the head of his cock nudging at my opening. He took my hands again, but this time held them over my head as he slowly entered me. With every inch, he watched my face, and I watched the pleasure spread over his the deeper he went. When he was fully seated inside of me, he closed his eyes, as if to savor the moment. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Then he began to move. At first, I was able to watch his face, was able to watch his focus, the concentration that came over him as he thrust deep inside of me. But then, pleasure overwhelmed me, and my eyes fluttered close, his pace speeding up. I tightened my legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper, and with each thrust, pleasure spiraled through my body. I was moaning now, the sound continuous, almost drowning out Liam’s own groans of pleasure.
I was close, so close, and I arched my hips towards him, my ankles digging into my back. As he fucked me, Liam released my hands to grab my ass, to tilt my body towards him so he could go even deeper. I buried my hands in his hair as he thrust into me once more before I found my release.
My orgasm slammed into me, and I was pretty sure I lost consciousness for a moment, because the next thing I knew Liam was finding his own release and collapsing on top of me, our sweaty bodies tangled together.
13
Juliet
I spent the night wrapped in Liam’s arms. When I woke up, the bed was empty, but the smell of coffee filled the entire apartment. Still half awake, I grabbed his button-less shirt and wandered in search of both caffeine and one particular handsome man.
I found him in the kitchen, not just making coffee, but making breakfast as well. No man had ever made breakfast for me before, and I wanted to drag him back to bed just for the gesture. Instead, I took the coffee that was offered and sat on a stool, watching Liam finish cooking.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I was, but not for food. It was hard not getting all hot and bothered when a shirtless, incredibly built man was making me breakfast. My mouth watered. For more than one reason.
Liam handed me a plate with a beautifully made omelet and several pieces of fruit on the side. It looked like it could have been made at a restaurant. Then, he poured me a glass of what looked to be freshly squeezed orange juice.
With another identical plate in hand, Liam gestured for me to take a seat in the dining room where we had a beautiful view of the water.
“Wow,” I said, letting out a breath, taking in the moment. “It’s really nice up here. Must be nice to sit and enjoy your coffee here every morning.”
Liam didn’t say anyt
hing for a moment, and when I looked back at him, he had a pensive look on his face.
“What?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he said, his face still thoughtful. “I guess I just realized that I never really sit here.”
“Really?” I was shocked. “You have this amazing view and you don’t take the time to enjoy it?” I glanced around the beautiful room. “I would have a hard time doing anything else.”
Liam shrugged a little. “I’m pretty busy,” he told me. “I guess I usually take my coffee to go, or I’m reading the news while I’m eating.”
“That’s a damn shame,” I told him. “Because I bet you anything that this view is way more enjoyable than anything you might find on your phone.”
Liam didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I turned my own attention back to the view, savoring each moment. That was the thing about getting injured—it helped you appreciate the little moments. Because you knew now that good things didn’t always last. You had to enjoy them while you could. So I was going to enjoy this view, and this breakfast, and this time with Liam.
We ate, and an awkward silence settled between us as we finished.
“I’m guessing you have lots of work to do,” I said, gathering my plate and taking it into the kitchen before Liam could take it from me.
“Sadly, I do,” he said, following me with his own plate.
“I understand,” I told him, because I did.
And I wasn’t expecting anything. Last night had been amazing, and I really enjoyed spending time with Liam—both in and out of bed—but I also was smart enough to keep reminding myself that despite our amazing chemistry, I wasn’t the kind of girl that Liam wanted in the long term.
Not that I was looking for long term. Nope, I was looking to have fun. So we’d have fun. Until we didn’t anymore.
I went back into the bedroom to get dressed, belatedly remembering that Liam had ripped my new dress right down the middle. But before I could remind him of that, he came into the bedroom, a bag from a nearby clothing shop in his hands.