by S. Layne
I’m stopped by his hand reaching out and cupping my elbow.
“Laurie?”
I look down and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“Look at me.”
I don’t listen. Dropping my purse on my desk, I try to shake his grip off my elbow, but he spins me around until I have no choice other than to face him.
“What happened?” he asks when he takes in my appearance.
His hand leaves my elbow to brush a lock of hair off my cheeks.
I shake my head, not answering. It’s none of his business and we don’t do personal chit-chats, anyway. That’s what Talia is for, and I already plan on having her over for a night of chocolate and horror films.
Being scared to pieces will help me avoid thinking about my meeting with James.
That he’s trying…and going to counseling by himself.
My eyes burn again at the thought.
“Can you just let me get to work?” I ask Liam, pleading him with silently.
His eyes graze down my body before they come back to mine. I look away, but I see his sharpened, penetrating look before he picks my purse off my desk and tugs me toward him.
“Let’s go.”
My head snaps back to my desk. “We have work and meetings,” I tell him as he hustles me toward the reception area.
Sheila is there and she catches his hand on my elbow right before he drops it.
“Hold our calls for the rest of the day, Sheila. We have an appointment off-site we’re running late for.”
Her chin jerks up and her lips part. “Okay, but—”
“But nothing.” Liam pauses to snap at her. I’m taken aback, my mind reeling, and I take a step away. “Cancel my four o’clock and hold our calls. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sheila’s eyes flicker to mine. I look away, trying to plaster on some sort of professional expression.
“Okay, then.” She nods and looks away from us.
Not bothering to wait for the elevators, Liam ushers us into the stairwell and once the door closes behind us, he links his hand around mine.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He doesn’t look back and he’s tugging me behind him so quickly my feet feel as if they’re floating on air. I’m just along for the ride at this point.
“Taking you home. You look like shit.”
His words are harsh and his voice is cold, but something warm washes over me. He’s taking care of me in his own calculated and distant way, and even though I know he’s right—I do look like crap—I know he didn’t say it to hurt me.
But to help me.
I’m still stunned stupid when Liam pulls his SUV into my driveway. How he knows where I live is a question I don’t want to think about or ask, but he drove here like he’s done it a million times.
“Let’s get you inside.”
I open the door and hesitate when Liam’s hand covers my wrist closest to him.
“You okay?” he asks when I look down at his hand and then his eyes.
“I’ll be fine.”
Truthfully, I’m a wreck. The way he ushered me out of the office and sweetly set me in his Land Rover is too much for me to handle.
He cares.
I never thought knowing that would make me more conflicted in my relationship with him, but it does.
Liam’s gaze is examining and I watch as he slowly nods. “Okay then.”
I stare at my front door. I’m not sure I want him inside my house. It feels as if it breaks one of our personal rules. “You don’t have to come in with me, but thank you for getting me home.”
“Laurie?”
Reluctantly, I pull my eyes off my door and try to focus on him.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.” His lips twitch into a grin. “Let me get you inside and make sure you’re okay.”
I won’t win this, I know.
“Fine,” I release on a sigh and climb down. When Liam meets me at the front of his SUV, he hands me my purse but already has my keys in his hands.
I take them and head up to the front door, my hand shaking when I put the key in the lock. The old lock sticks on a good day, and with the extra nerves making my fingers tremble, it takes me three tries before I’m able to open the door and let Liam enter.
I know exactly what he sees when I flick on the front entryway lights.
A living room that was made for a family. Wedding photos that hang above the fireplace, surrounded by candles and other random knick-knacks that I’ve started hating in the last month.
Wooden plaques with the words, “Faith Love Family” and “Live Laugh Love” stand beneath the photo.
I instantly look away and head toward the kitchen.
Liam’s soft footsteps follow behind me and the air thickens when he watches me in the kitchen. I pull out a bottle of wine, instantly chucking the chocolate and horror film idea.
Mostly, I just want to forget.
Between Becky’s vile words and James’s caring ones, my chest aches and my head hurts worse.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Liam asks.
The laugh that falls from my lips is cold. I can’t help it.
Shaking my head, I take a sip of my red wine. “I’m surprised you care.”
I sniff and look away. I’m acting like a snot, but I can’t help it.
Liam huffs, takes the glass of wine from my fingertips, and sets it on the counter. “You have a bathtub?”
I blink. “Yes?”
“Let’s get you in it.”
I take a step away from him, putting space between us, but it doesn’t help me understand what he’s doing.
But his eyes don’t leave mine and his lips pull into a smirk.
“Why?” I ask, moving away again.
Liam follows like he enjoys the chase. He probably does.
His hand reaches out and he brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. The soft and gentle movement makes me freeze and my lips part.
“I’m going to run you a bath, order you some food, and then we’ll talk.”
My nose twitches. I’m sold on the first two, but Liam’s the last person I want to talk to about my afternoon.
But the bath does sound nice.
“Upstairs,” I tell him, gesturing to my stairway. I lead the way and mentally catalog what my room looks like before we enter. James took most of his clothes, but I haven’t been great about laundry and there are still dirty clothes strewn on the floor of my room. I’m sure there’s a pair of James’s boxers curled into a ball somewhere.
Having another man in my home—even one I know intimately, like Liam—is unsettling.
It’s like we’ve taken another step, but I don’t know where we’re headed and the maze I’m trying to follow is frustrating.
I don’t say anything while Liam heads to my bathroom and begins running warm water. I follow him, though, and rest against my bathroom counter, clearing off my hair products and makeup to make room.
The one good thing about living on my own is that I haven’t had to put anything away or keep space clean for James. I’m a natural clutter hog and James is a neat freak. I always tried to keep things put away for him, but I used to smile when I would hear him cleaning up the bathroom after I had already crawled into bed.
I shake off the thought, unwilling to let more tears fall.
Crying in front of Liam is too much.
“Here,” he says when he turns to me. “Let’s get you in the bath.”
I look over his shoulder and see bubbles forming in my corner soaking tub. It’s large enough for two and as Liam begins tugging my blouse from my skirt, I feel the first twinges of arousal blossom.
I push his hands away. I’m sick.
How can I be so upset over my husband and still want this man’s hands on me?
“I’ll do it,” I tell him, not looking him in the eyes. Slowly, I remove my shirt and push down my skirt.
He hisses in a breath when I stand before him in just my
underwear and matching bra. I put them on this morning knowing I would see him later tonight, and I wore the satin set because the color reminds me of his eyes.
Now I feel foolish and too exposed.
“I’m trying to be good here,” Liam says, his voice thick with desire. I can already see his pupils dilate as his eyes roam my bare skin.
My lips twist. “Maybe I don’t want you to be good.”
I really don’t.
I know where I stand with sexy, distant, and nighttime Liam.
Nice, caring Liam is confusing.
He laughs softly and begins unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes widen as he bares his chest and undoes the buckle on his belt.
My head shakes back and forth slowly. “You’re not getting in there with me.”
He chuckles. “Yes. I am.”
Silently, he dares me to continue arguing, but I press my lips together. A bath with warm water and bubbles and Liam’s hands all over me sounds warm and comforting and able to erase the day better than being by myself and allowing my mind to wander.
Without saying anything else, I remove my bra and panties before stepping around him to climb into the tub.
I sink in and exhale a low groan. It feels fantastic and I reach out to a small bowl I keep in the corner, grab a hair tie, and pile my hair into a messy bun on top of my head so it doesn’t get wet.
Liam’s eyes drop to my exposed breasts and he follows me in.
Who knew a man climbing into a bathtub could be sexy. Liam’s lithe movements make him look like a predator and my stomach flutters wildly.
“Come here,” he says once he’s in. I move toward him and let him adjust us so my back is to his chest, his legs outside of mine.
With sure and strong hands, he begins massaging my shoulders and my head falls forward.
“God, that feels good.” I lift my foot up and turn the water off once the bubbles rise to my shoulders.
“Tell me what happened.”
I suck in a breath, but he keeps talking before I can decide whether or not I’m going to answer.
His hands tighten on my upper arms and he squeezes. His lips brush against my ear and I feel his chest tighten behind me.
“I’m trying here, Laurie.” He repeats the words as if they make sense.
They don’t.
And my day has been way too confusing enough, so I don’t bother taking the time to figure it out or ask him.
“I met with my divorce attorney today for lunch and then delivered the papers to James.”
His hands falter for a moment before he hums in my ear and continues his ministrations. With each touch, my stress melts into the warm water. My head falls back against his shoulder.
“I’m sure you don’t need to know more, or want it.” I try to keep my voice light, but I know I fail.
“You haven’t ever said what happened with you two.”
“You’ve never asked.”
His hands squeeze firmly and then drop and wrap around my stomach, pulling me against him. His chin drops to my shoulder and the slight scruff on his jaw tickles mine. “But I’m asking now.”
Everything overwhelms me. I can feel Liam’s erection press into my backside, growing harder in the water, and even though he’s not touching me sexually, my body still responds.
Yet I can’t forget James and the tortured expression in his eyes when he saw the folder from the divorce attorney.
Suddenly…it’s all too much.
I push out of Liam’s hold and scamper out the tub. He reaches for me but our skin is slick and he loses hold.
He stands in the tub, his erection proud and free, and his hands go to his hips. “What are you doing?”
I shake my head and scramble for a towel. Once it’s wrapped around me, I throw one to him. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” he asks, drying off and completely unashamed of his nakedness when he stands in front of me. “Care? Want more? Isn’t that what you hoped for from the beginning?”
I draw in a breath and clench the towel to my chest. His words are right. The tone is…off.
“What do you want to know, Liam?” I turn on my heels and head toward my bedroom dresser. I hear him getting dressed in the bathroom while I throw on a pair of yoga pants and tank top. “Do you want to know that my husband cheated on me with my best friend? That he had an affair, and now that I’ve kicked him out he wants me back?”
When I look up, Liam is in the bathroom doorway with his undershirt on and his pants still unbuckled.
“I have sweatpants you can put on,” I blurt without thinking. What am I doing? He’s not going to stay.
His eyes roam my bedroom and he scowls. “I’m not wearing your husband’s clothes.”
I snicker. “Good point,” I mutter and throw my towel toward the bathroom. It lands at his feet and I don’t care. I’ll pick it up later.
Like next week.
“Anyway,” I say, waving my hands in the air before they fall to my hips. “Now you know. Ironic, isn’t it, though? That my husband cheated on me with his assistant? And here I am…screwing my boss.” My hands flail before collapsing and my lips twist into a wicked grin.
He frowns. “I thought you said he cheated on you with your best friend.”
I think of Becky and the evil she spewed at me earlier. “Same thing. Becky, James, and I have known each other since high school. James helped get her a job at his law firm a few years ago when she couldn’t find a job after we graduated college.”
“Convenient.”
I point at him and hiss, “Don’t start.”
I push my hands into my hair and spin away from him. The wine sitting on the kitchen counter is screaming my name.
“You can go now. I’m not trying to be rude but today is just…crappy, and I’d like to be alone.”
I’m in the hallway headed for the stairs when Liam reaches me from behind. His arm comes out and snakes around the front of my chest, pulling me to him, and his lips brush against my shoulder.
“Maybe I don’t want you to be alone. Maybe I want to help.”
“You don’t help,” I lie. He does. Somehow, dammit, this confusing man helps me. “I don’t know what game you’re playing today, Liam, but I’m not in any position to handle more insanity.” My shoulders slump with exhaustion. “Please…just go.”
His lips travel my skin up to my ear. “I meant every word.” The vibration of his voice tickles my skin, igniting it. “Let me order dinner. You want me to leave after that, I will. Deal?”
The image of Liam relaxing on my couch, kicking his feet up and daring me to make him leave flashes through my mind. He’s bossy enough to pull it off, and I’m too tired to fight.
“You’re infuriating.”
His laugh rumbles along my skin. “I know. Lucky for me, you like it.”
I don’t speak because arguing would be another lie.
“Fine. You can stay for dinner.”
“There we go.” He spins me around so I’m facing him, and before I can react, his lips are on mine. It’s a soft kiss, slow and teasing and completely different from anything we’ve shared before. We rarely kiss at all, and I liked the separation the lack of intimacy provided. This makes me confused, and when he pulls away, I’m breathless and wobbly on my feet.
I don’t know what’s brought this change in Liam today, and I’m not sure I like it.
I preferred the clearly drawn lines we had before, and now everything feels muddled again.
“Hmmm…that feels so good.” My back arches off the couch a little bit as Liam’s fingers work their magic.
“Is that good, wild one?”
I shoot him a look. “You know it is.”
His thumbs press against the arch of my foot and heat spreads up my leg. Who knew a foot massage could be so sensual?
“You relaxing yet?” he asks with a heated look in his eye.
He ordered Chinese for dinner, which we devoured in silence, and over a glass of red wine I told
him a bit more about my situation with James, leaving out the offer for marital counseling.
It’s not something I want to think about, and with Liam acting so nice and different, I don’t even want to think about James.
He was silent through most of it, giving appropriate responses at the correct times, but I watched as his hands gripped his silverware tighter and his jaw ticked in certain moments, too.
After dinner we casually drifted into the living room, where Liam turned on the television. We’ve been watching mindless television and either the dinner or the wine left me drowsy so I stretched out on the couch, my feet near Liam’s lap.
He’s sitting at the far end of the couch from me, his bare feet propped on my coffee table like he owns the space and my couch is his throne.
I didn’t expect him to pluck my feet off the couch and place them in his lap, but I didn’t complain.
When he began massaging them, I lost the ability to speak.
“Getting there,” I mutter, my eyes drifting closed.
His hand slides up to my calves and then he pulls. I squeal and my eyes fly open in shock when I see that he’s shifted onto his knees facing me, my legs draped over his lap.
His hands continue moving upward slowly, and the thin fabric of my yoga pants coupled with his movements tickles my legs.
I squirm, a teasing smile on my face. “What are you doing?”
He leans forward and his hands push up my tank top. “Can’t have you too relaxed yet.”
“No?” I ask, my voice breathy.
He shakes his head slowly and those aqua blue eyes steal my breath completely. With a wicked grin, he leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lower stomach.
My head drops back and I moan.
My hands fall to his hair and I push it out of his eyes.
“So good,” I whisper.
His lips brush over my sensitive skin, and his fingers wrap around the waistband of my pants before he begins tugging them off me.
His movements are slow and seductive and I shift my hips to make it easier for him. His tongue darts out, swirls around my stomach, and he sucks my skin into his mouth before moving lower.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs, brushing his lips above my hip bone. The brief tickling sensation is quickly replaced by a deeper, warmer heat below. “I want to taste every inch of you.”