“Stop underestimating me Amelia. It won’t get you anywhere” he hisses back at me.
“You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with! If you want to fuck women, then do it on your own time! And stop underestimating you? How about you stop underestimating me!”
“I don’t want to fuck women! Do you know the last time I fucked someone? It’s been months! I’m sick of having to prove myself to you!” he turns and walks to the window, slapping his hand against the glass in temper.
“I don’t want you to prove yourself to me! Just stop being such a big headed spoiled brat! You can’t have everything you want Liam! If you would stop being such a daddy’s boy, then maybe we could work well together!” I shout back, realizing instantly that the words that just left my mouth could land me in serious hot water.
Spinning on his heel, he steps closer to me again and this time I find myself stuck, not wanting to move. His eyes hold me in place, and I can’t look away. All the ups and downs I’ve felt over the past few weeks come to the surface and I want to hide away from them all. The emails, phone calls and the way he outright refused to use Bellucci in the new name had taken its toll. I wanted something good to come of my name, to rid it of its taintedness. I needed it. Then I remember the new name he included on the contract and I feel slightly guilty for being all snappy with him. He’s right he doesn’t have to explain himself to me, why should he? I let my head hang slightly and soft tendrils of my hair escape my clipped up top knot and fall down my face. Soft music from my docking station fills the room, mixed with our erratic breathing and I can’t shift my eyes away from his. Why do we have this invisible string attached to us? I shouldn’t care what he does, I should just let him get on with it, I am, but he isn’t letting go of his end of the rope. The smell of autumn fills the space around me, joining the crackling electricity emanating between us. Liam steps closer, his lips slightly parted and light mahogany curls fall against his tanned face. My hand twitches against my side, fighting the urge to reach up and brush them away, when he steps closer again, bending slightly so the tip of his nose almost brushes mine. My breath catches in my lungs, my tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip and Liam’s eyes glaze over with what I think is lust. My body vibrates with the need to feel his touch again. He barely touched me yesterday but the scorching line he left down the top half of my body reignites as he closes around me.
“Say it again Amelia”
“Stop calling me that” I hiss back, clenching my teeth together to the point of pain. The anger wins over all other emotion, lust quickly depletes, and I resist the urge to lunge at him.
“Say it” his minty breath washes over my skin, and I inhale a deep breath. The closeness of his body radiates heat all over me, the smell of him invades my senses and my body reacts as it should. My nipples pebble even more against the fabric of my t-shirt and the throb between my legs intensifies. I know I shouldn’t call him a daddy’s boy again. The threat of putting me over his knee awakens a need within me that I need to expel. My damned curiosity wants to see if he’s true to his word.
“You’re a spoiled daddy’s…” before I can finish, his lips are smashed against mine, cutting off the end of my sentence. It takes a second for my brain to compute what the hell is happening, so I just stand there, limp, my eyes fluttering shut as he continues to urge my lips to move. Keeping my eyes closed, my senses are heightened. The soft music, the firm grip he has on my hip and the way his soft lips press harshly against mine. I stifle a groan as his hand comes up to my hair, unclipping it and letting it fall around my shoulders. The clip sounds on the hardwood floor somewhere far in the distance but my mind is elsewhere. Taking full advantage of my now free strands, he grabs a handful gently in his fist before urging me closer into his body. Blood roars in my ears, drowning out everything else as he tilts my head for an easier angle, I melt into him, opening my lips slightly to grant him access. The taste of him finally mixing on my tongue sends shockwaves through my nerves, waking them up after lying dormant for so long. A small moan escapes me, and I bring my arms up around his hard shoulders, curling them around his neck. Threading my fingers through his hair, it’s soft strands flow through my fingertips. I grab hold of it lightly, tilting my head more to deepen our kiss. His lips are softer than I ever imagined, but the ferocity of his kiss gives me no time to admire them. I hadn’t realized the tension in my body had been building and I find it ebbing away the more he kisses me. Suddenly I don’t care about anything that has happened. The way his hard body feels against my soft skin feels too good to even consider thinking about anything else.
The more I grip onto his hold, his one strong arm holding me up, grasping at my hair, the more my need intensifies. His other hand pushing against the small of my back with long, splayed fingers, urging me into his tight body, the tension inside me builds and almost pushes me into madness. Eager for more, my body reacts of its own accord, we’re all teeth and tongue, desperate for…something. Liam teases me, pushing and pulling against my body, giving me a taste of what we could do, without pushing it past the point of no return.
Pushing his tongue between my lips, it brushes against mine as he softens the kiss. I melt into the minty flavor on his tongue, like it was my favorite desert. Our tongues waltz together for a few seconds, his grip on my hair lightening before realization sets in. I gasp but Liam takes that as a sign of me wanting more. How did you let him kiss you? Stupid!
I push against his rock-hard pecks, breaking the kiss and stepping backwards out of his hold. Wringing my bottom lip between my teeth, Liam’s eyes land on them. I resist the urge to bring my hands up and feel the swollen flesh that I know will be there. The taste of him lingers in my mouth, mixing with my own. I swallow hoping to get rid of it. I can’t believe I allowed that to happen. Well, I can, but I shouldn’t have let that happen! The angel and the devil begin to argue across my shoulders and I can’t seem to make any sense of them. Only our labored breathing and the soft sounds of classical music fill the room. Why I had chosen classical slips my mind, it’s not my usual listening preference. Liam’s eyes are full of lust, his ocean blues darkened by the sweet, devilish emotion. His lips, equally as swollen as mine, glisten in the light of the room. His chest rises and falls in sync with mine, and the tenting in his shorts gives his arousal away. My core clenches at the possibilities, but my neediness is unattractive. I love knowing I have that effect on him, but I know I’m not the only one. I close my eyes, before wringing the hem of my t-shirt between my hands.
“We shouldn’t have done that” my voice almost a whisper breaks the sexual tension so obviously floating around the room, I’m sure a black light could pick it up. The silence is deafening and I’m sure the beat of my pounding heart is loud enough for him to hear. I chance a glance at him when he doesn’t say anything. His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles of his arms ticking wildly lead to the tussled brown hair on his head. My fingers tingle with invisible strands as I itch to feel it again. I only got to tickle the strands at the back of his neck, and I want to feel it all. Run my fingers through it when he’s making love to me. Shit! I wince and close my eyes, willing such images away. He probably doesn’t make love anyway, he just fucks you and then leaves you. I knew that, and yet here I am. The devil on my shoulder hisses He could just fuck you. God knows you need it. While the angel fires back Nope! Bad Idea! If that’s your game then, go for it. But I’m not in the right place to fuck around with a man I know I’ll already fall to hard for.
“Amelia” his voice is rough, croaky even. I snap my eyes back to his, my brow furrowed. I’m pissed. At him and at myself. Why the fuck did we let that happen? It’s all his fault!
“Don’t” I manage before turning and heading for the window, crossing my arms across my unforgiving chest. Can’t my body be on the same page as me for once? My nipples are aching to be touched and the urge to rub my legs together to put the fire out between my thighs is off the charts. As if things
couldn’t get any worse right now! I have enough on my plate. I don’t need some good looking, sex god interfering and turning my brain to mush! I don’t do one night stands anyway. Sex is sex but I need to feel a connection before I sleep with a guy. It doesn’t have to be deep, but still it helps.
“I think you should leave” I say rashly. My emotions are all over the place and him being here is not helping. I hear him suck in a breath, before the soft squeak of his trainers alert me to his leaving. The soft click of my door tells me he’s gone. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Tilting my head back, focusing on nothing on my ceiling I cringe. Why the hell had I done that? I know I can’t blame it all on Liam, I wrapped my arms around him. You invited it. The evil little voice in my head snickers. I groan out loud and stomp towards the kitchen. I need wine.
Chapter Seven
I’m woken by the buzzing of my intercom. Who the fuck is visiting me at this time on a Saturday? I grunt and moan out loud like a grumpy teenager, before throwing back the covers and stomping to my hallway.
“What?” I demand, wincing at my own voice and the realization that I drank two bottles of wine to myself last night hits. My head starts to thump right at the base of my neck, and I know I’ll need to swallow a handful of painkillers. And soon.
“Oh, I do apologize Ms. Bellucci. We have the gentleman from last night here for you. Shall I send him up?” What the fuck?! I pull the phone away from my ear, as if I was checking to see if I heard him correctly. Didn’t he get the message?
“Can you ask him what he wants? I’m busy” I lie. Holding my palm to my thumping forehead, yeah that’s going to help.
“He won’t say but he does have a rather tasty looking breakfast basket” Rick says sweetly. I groan, why is he being nice suddenly? Without the energy or the brain to argue I agree. I need food, and I doubt I have any in my fridge. While a housekeeper comes by to clean the place, I do my own food shopping. With the merger and this new case, along with countless other things I haven’t had a chance to get to the supermarket.
“Fine. Let him up” I hang up without another word, leaving my door unlatched and trudging to my bathroom to tidy myself up. After brushing my hair into an acceptable ponytail, brushing my teeth and slapping a light layer of make up on I hear the front door close. I throw on some jeans and a light cream jumper before heading into the living room. Taking a deep, calming breath as I do.
Liam is standing in the middle of the room holding a picnic basket. I’ll be damned if my insides weren’t already on overdrive to him being so close. The early morning sun shines in through the windows, dancing on his hair, turning it into thick locks of caramel. The dark denim jeans he’s wearing hang low on his hips, but the evidence between his legs only makes the space between mine throb even more. Damn it. The white long-sleeved t-shirt he wears is pulled tightly against his chest and highlights those toned biceps. I raise a questioning eyebrow at him when he still hasn’t said anything.
“Good Morning” his deep voice cuts through my thoughts and sends sparks to every pore in my skin. My lips tingle at the memory of him kissing me. I’m sure he could make me orgasm with just his voice. I clear my throat, averting his eyes before answering.
“Morning”
Holding up the basket he eyes me carefully. “I brought breakfast”
I give him a small smile but scrunch my brow “I can see. Why?” Sucking in a breath, his top pulls tighter against the muscle underneath and I can’t help but stare. Letting the breath out in a whoosh that seems to fill my flat, he glares at me. Jaw ticking mercilessly and his eyes turning darker by the second, “Because, we need to talk” I watch his lips as he speaks, the way his mouth curves slightly. The taste that his tongue left in my mouth makes me lick my lips, as if trying to revive that flavor. My fingers twitch at my side and I cross my arms, so he can’t see. A smirk crosses his lips, and he cocks his head to the side slightly, eyeing me curiously.
How can I run a company, be in court rooms arguing until I’m blue in the face and not be able to stand my ground with Liam? It’s infuriating. He’s infuriating.
“It’s breakfast Amelia. Come and eat”
I huff, turning towards the kitchen.
“I’m not hungry. Coffee?”
“So, you don’t want me here yet I’m aloud a coffee?” I daren’t tell him that a part of me likes him being here, can you imagine? His head would inflate even more if he got a whiff of the way my body really reacts to him.
“I didn’t invite you. And yes, I’m polite. You don’t have to take the coffee” I hiss before turning towards the machine. Flicking it on and popping two coffee pods into it before turning and facing him. The breakfast basket sits on the polished granite worktop, the scent of freshly baked bread fills my nose and my stomach grumbles, loud enough for the entire Kensington area of London to hear. Liam raises and eyebrow at me, before reaching into the basket and pulling out the goodies.
“There you go again, arguing. You could thank me for bringing you breakfast. But I guess there’s more for me considering you aren’t hungry” he says smugly, flicking his eyes between my moaning stomach and my eyes, before sitting down on one of my bar stools with a smug smirk on his gorgeous face. I shake my head at his brashness. This is the worst case of the morning after the night before. I slam his coffee down in front of him before pulling the milk from the fridge.
“Thank you for the food” it comes out as sarcastic as I meant it. The freshly baked sour dough bread sits in a quaint wicker basket, alongside some fresh butter. It smells heavenly. There’s a selection of fruit in a plastic container alongside waffles, miniature pancakes and two of the tiniest bottles of maple syrup I’ve ever seen. Liam pulls out a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice, setting it down between us before pulling out two plates and some cutlery.
My stomach is in knots with Liam sitting so close. My hand trembles slightly when I lift my coffee mug to my lips. Liam tucks in so I help myself to some of the waffles before adding a handful of fresh berries and syrup. The first mouthful is like heaven on my tongue. I savor it before swallowing only to realize Liam’s eyes are on me.
“What?”
“Nothing” his deep voice makes me quiver, and I turn my eyes away. Wiping his hands on the napkin in his lap, he takes a swig of coffee and I admire the way his throat works. His Adams apple bobbing slightly with each swallow, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him there. I shake my head before swallowing my own food.
“I’m not eating this because you want me to. I’m eating because I’m hungry, and I like food” I clear up with a slight smile. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of thinking I will do everything he tells me to.
“You must be hungry all the time then” he eyes me questioningly before lifting a forkful of waffle into his mouth. If he hadn’t just insulted me I would be dreaming about the food that gets to sit on his tongue. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be that food. “Excuse me?” What the hell was that comment supposed to mean?
“Well, this is the calmest I’ve seen you. It’s also the first time I’ve seen you eat. Simply putting two and two together. I do believe that’s also the first time you’ve even slightly smiled at me. You’re a hangry person”
“What the hell is hangry?”
“Hungry and Angry” he points out, lifting his now empty fork and pointing it in my direction, “If you don’t have food you’re hangry”. I let out a small huff of a laugh, “You’re unbelievable”
“I’m also right. Don’t get me wrong, I love a woman who eats”
“I always eat. I work out often enough, so my ass doesn’t grow to the size of the entire south London area”
“I know now to bring you food and you’ll more than likely be nicer to me” At that I snap my eyes back to his, only to see him smirking at me. My mouth hangs open in disbelief that he’s just so full of himself!
“Well, you’re damn sure of yourself aren’t you” I take a swig of t
he crisp orange juice, it’s icy coldness soothing my hangover sore throat.
“I am, and I always get what I want”
“Don’t tempt me” I fire back at him. I so badly want to call him out on his self-righteousness, but my inner strength wills me not to tempt him. God knows what he would do after his reaction last night. But a part of me also wants to find out.
“I dare you to say it Amelia” his deep voice cuts through my wandering, lusting thoughts and I choose to ignore him. Finishing my last bite and pushing my empty plate away. Sensing that I’m not going to answer him, Liam finishes his coffee before saying,
“You didn’t mean what you said last night” his assertive tone cuts through the otherwise early morning silence. I cock my eyebrow in silent question before placing my cutlery and napkin on the plate, enjoying the warmth that’s spreading through my stomach now.
“You enjoyed it, and you wanted more” The ocean blues of his eyes never leave mine, and I want to hide away from them. It’s like he can see right through me and my tough exterior. I can’t have him thinking I’m weak. He more than likely has a hidden agenda that I have no idea about, my hidden paranoia fights its way to the forefront of my mind. I never trust new people. Scolding myself for thinking too much into it, I shake the thought away. I only need to trust him in work, nothing else. I do know however, that my nipples harden at the mere idea of him being on top of me. That huge slab of muscle pressing down on me, his hips working between my legs. A half smirk spreads across his beautiful, kissable lips and I recoil a little.
“See. You want this Amelia, I know you do. Stop trying to fight it”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” I feign my innocence and go to move away from the counter, but a strong well-manicured hand wraps gently around my wrist holding me steady.
Powerless (Power Series Book 1) Page 6