My skin flushes at the thought of possibly going home with Liam tonight. The throb between my legs insistent on something, anything, happening.
“You’re right. Thank you” I smile at her genuinely, the slight pang of uncertainty still remains but I’ll let her have her fun.
“Thank god! Let’s go!” she grabs her lipstick to reapply in my hallway mirror, fluffing her long blonde hair that’s otherwise straight across her shoulders. Long white, wide leg trousers give the illusion that’s she’s taller, the lacy black heels she has on give her an extra few inches in height. The green of her eyes matches the silky blouse she has on, and her eyes pop against the smoky eyeshadow she’s painted them with, and I envy her makeup skills. My subtle bat wing eyeliner, mascara and blood red lips is my go to look when I can’t be bothered to play with the countless brushes she’s bought me over the years. Becca taught me all about fashion, hair and makeup while we were studying at University. I hadn’t found it that interesting at the time, until, well I had to decide about how I was going to fund my way through my course and build Bellucci. Since then, every Christmas and Birthday has included a new makeup set. I’m not proud of the job I took, but it helped, and it paid damn well. But now that I want to try and impress someone, someone who isn’t paying me for my time, I regret not paying much attention. I paired a black camisole top with a red pencil skirt that has a slit up the side. Not too dangerous that I could be considered a slut, but sultry enough should I bump into anyone. Liam, please be Liam. Giving my loose inky black curls a little scrunch, I swing them over my shoulders and we head out.
Chapter Nine
After my driver dropped us at the cocktail bar and finding a booth to occupy, the next couple of hours pass by in a blur of fancy cocktails and girl talk. Becca is hung up on getting her wedding planning started and I couldn’t be happier to help her. The venues she seen today weren’t up to her standards and so the hunt is ongoing. I wouldn’t consider myself your typical girlie girl, but, who doesn’t love a wedding? The wedding talk is a nice distraction from all the work crap that’s going on anyway. I’ve never pictured myself getting married, mainly because I’ve never found someone I’ve felt that serious about. Not that I had a good example growing up, but Becca’s parents have shown me what it can be like, and maybe just… maybe someday.
“How are your parents?” I take the easy route out and change the subject in my head. Unwilling to dwell on maybes. I still hadn’t heard anymore from my mother, and I was praying silently that she’d finally gotten the message. I wasn’t going to help her, and I never would.
“They’re vacationing again! They’re in the Seychelles this week, I swear I’m going to need to microchip them soon.” She huffs. A small laugh escapes me, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews are never in the country now. Given the freezing temperatures I don’t blame them.
“Mum is driving me crazy with the wedding already. I haven’t even found a wedding planner yet and I get emails daily if not hourly with dresses, flowers, musicians…” Becca groans using her hand to indicate the etcetera movement.
“Oh, that’s sweet Bec! You know she just wants the best for you”
“Well, seen as you’re my maid of honor, you can deal with her. I regret ever showing her how to use that bloody I-pad” she huffs, taking a swig of the vibrant pink cocktails, she bought us.
“I love your mother, I’d be happy to!” I laugh, knowing that Mrs. Matthews can be a bit overbearing on occasion, but it’s all in the name of love.
“Enough about me, what are we going to do about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, we need to find Liam for starters”
“What? Now? Let’s have some more drinks and dance first”
“Hmmm” she takes another sip of the cocktail before grimacing, “I can’t keep drinking these, I’ll be on the floor!” I take a sip of mine to find that she’s right. The spirit level is through the roof, burning my tongue slightly and bringing tears to my eyes.
“You’re right, I’ll go and get us some wine. Best not mix them too much” I don’t want to be a howling mess if I happen to bump into Liam. That would be a great impression wouldn’t it? Kiss him and then throw up all over his designer shoes.
“Yeah, sounds good!”
I slide out of the booth and head towards the bar. The venue is busy, but the vibe here is nice. The music isn’t too loud, so we don’t have to shout to hear each other. I know Becca will want to move onto something a bit livelier once we’ve had a few drinks, so I think taking it easy for now, is a good call. That woman is the ultimate party animal, but she’s calmed down a lot since we graduated – thank god.
The guy behind the bar is dressed in dark jeans, a white crisp shirt and dark waistcoat. Tilting his chin towards me I smile and tell him our order. “Two large white wines please” he smiles and nods before he busies himself making our drinks. I chance a glance around, I’ve never been here before. Becca mentioned it being new, so I haven’t heard much about it. The silver bar is accentuated by gorgeous black-purple velvet bar stools. The booths are velvet too, with low hanging chandeliers hanging above each table in the center, casting the occupants in a glittery, sparkling light. It screams elegant, but the vibe is easy going. There’s no DJ or dance floor, it’s purely for drinking and chatting. The clang of two glasses hitting the bar brings my gaze back to the bartender. A good-looking man, early twenties I would say, his smile is genuine, and I can’t help but smile back. “fifteen pounds please” he says, leaning in further towards me. A little young for me, and I have my sights set on someone else, but hey a girls got to eat.
I go to retrieve my purse from my bag when a hand stops me.
“I’ve got these” a familiar husky voice, breaths against my ear sending shivers down my spine. I snap my head up to come face to face with my drink buyer. His big hand still holds my wrist causing goose bumps to rise all over, the same way it did just this morning. His ocean blues travel down my body, leaving a trail of flames in their wake and I quiver under his gaze. I feel naked as he undresses me with his eyes, making me feel self-conscious, so I turn away slightly before speaking.
“Liam…uh... you don’t have to” I don’t know what else to say to him. Vivid memories of the dream I had last night make me blush, and I hope to god he doesn’t notice. The way my drunken brain allowed me to dream of the way his body pressed against mine, the weight of him on top of me. The way he brushed his tongue all over my scorching skin, relieving me of the damned thump of need, and then dipping between my legs. I shudder before I notice the bar tender recoil slightly so, I turn my eyes back to Liam.
“It’s my pleasure” his deep voice fills the space between us, sending shivers through my greedy skin. His hold still burns my wrist, as he turns to address the barman.
“Put it on my tab” he demands, only for the bartender to meet him with a pleased smile.
“Of course, sir” he nods and turns away. Was it me, or was that weird? Deciding to ignore it as Liam turns back to me, I inhale before mustering a, “Thank you”.
Letting my wrist fall from his grasp, I grab the glasses from the bar and turn to walk back to the table, but not before giving him a polite smile. Just go with it is on loop around my head.
“See you later?” The question falls from my lips before I can even think about what I’m asking. Biting the inside of my cheek, to stop myself from asking anything as remotely ridiculous, I wait for what feels like hours for him to reply. This lack of confidence is not something I’m used to, well confidence around people anyway. Putting on a brave face is like second nature to me, but behind closed doors I’m usually rather quiet believe it or not. I notice a few men sat at a corner booth laughing and punching each other playfully while staring between Liam and me. I guess they must be his friends. Narrowing my eyes at them slightly, before turning my dark eyes back to Liam’s sky blues.
“Definitely” he replies, shoving his hands into his tight black suit trousers and winkin
g at me. Oh shit. I close my eyes and turn back towards the booth where Becca is sat, letting out a gush of air as I do.
Becca has the biggest grin on her face when I sit back down. “What?”
“Really?”
“He just bought us drinks” I wave absently at the glasses in front of us.
“Well, as nice as that was. I think an orgasm or two would be better”
“Becca!”
“What? Did you not see the way he looked at you?”
I twirl my wine glass around my fingers, wondering if he did look at me in a certain way. Was he feeling everything I was? Was this just a one-time thing for him? Damn I wanted to ask him.
“No, I didn’t. Did you see him wink at me? He said he’d see me later. After I asked him, does that count?” I ask nervously, before taking a sip of the wine. Was I too forward? Ugh! Stop overthinking this!
Becca’s laugh brings me back to reality, her forest green eyes dazzling in the light of the chandelier.
“You’re in deep, already aren’t you?” she accuses lightly.
“What?”
“I can tell. Jason still makes me feel like a bumbling idiot. If this is how you feel now, and you haven’t even got to know him properly yet. Fuck Mia.” She breathes “It’s going to be so hot, did you shave today?”
“Becca!” I admonish her, forgetting the sweetness of her statement about Jason.
“What? I’m just making sure you’re prepared. Nothing kills the mood like shit self-confidence you know!” she questions before taking a sip of her wine, this time without grimacing.
“I didn’t need to shave, you dragged me to get waxed a week ago” I remind her. My nether regions definitely don’t need a reminder, I’m sure I was missing half of my skin for a while.
“Did you tell him we’d be here?” I accuse, but Becca feigns ignorance with a shrug of her shoulders and a sip of her wine. Damn great friend you are. Well she will be if she helps me get under him.
“Did he really come outright and say he wanted to have you? That takes some guts” she takes a gulp of her wine before continuing “How did you feel when he said that? I mean it’s not very professional of him. Hot. But still! And after seeing him in that position!” We’d skimmed the subject of finding him in his office earlier, mainly on my part because I didn’t want to think about it.
“No, it wasn’t professional of him. It doesn’t take guts! It means he’s a pig, doesn’t it? But I’m not worried about that, I don’t know, maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to women. He seems to have a thing about fucking anything with a pulse, but he insisted he wasn’t that man. He sounded genuine when we spoke last night, so I think we’re past it. I don’t know, I feel like I need to give him a chance? A chance at what though, I don’t know” I babble, all the thoughts in my head coming out in one big whoosh. Luckily Becca’s used to me after all these years and manages to catch everything I just said.
“Well, you’re clearly attracted to him, plus, you kissed! And from the way you’re reacting, I’m guessing it wasn’t a quick peck on the lips.” she says wiggling her eyebrows. I give her my biggest death glare before replying “You’re crazy, you know I can’t lie to you, but I just can’t risk the whole merger, can I? We’re going to be working together! What if this messes up our whole work relationship?”
“Mia. You’re both the new founders and CEO’s, who gives a crap what anyone else thinks? If it’s just fun like you say it is then no one has to know, do they? Plus. You’re one of the best business women in London, so cut yourself some slack”
“Thank you, I know, I just don’t want to risk Bellucci for a quickie” I sigh. Letting my mind wander to sinful thoughts of Liam naked. Stop it!
“Okay, well as long as you know how to handle him. And clearly you can. We didn’t find any dirt on him earlier, and you know what the tabloids can be like. If his past was that bad, then we would have found something wouldn’t we? I think you need to trust your instincts” she takes another sip of her wine. My instincts are screaming at me to go over to his table and mount him. Well, my ovaries are anyway. I take a large sip of my drink for renewed confidence and decide I’m going to do it. Or him. Liam gets everything he wants handed to him, I get everything I want by working for it. Well, not this time. He can grovel, and I will relish in the aftermath. The aftermath being an orgasm. Smiling to myself, I think that’s the best plan I’ve had for a while.
∞ ∞ ∞
We end up at a nightclub in Mayfair and it feels surprisingly nice to let my hair down. I hadn’t seen Liam again at the bar before we left, and I couldn’t help but wonder where he’d disappeared to. We’ve had numerous drinks, enough to give me the courage to hit the dance floor and swing to some hip-hop music, forgetting about the disappointment of Liam disappearing. I had no right to feel that way anyway, it’s not like we have anything. The possibility of something happening had got my eager, teenage self over excited and I knew better than to place my hope in someone else pulling through.
“I’m so glad you finally came out with me! You actually look like you’re enjoying yourself!” Becca shouts over the music while swinging her hips to the beat.
“I am! Thank you for making me come out! Make me do it more often!” my half-cut brain wishes she would, but my sober self knows otherwise. We’re nearly squashed in a sea of people on the dance floor, a little sweaty from the throng of dancers but the alcohol makes it all fun. There’s no way I would be doing any of this sober. A guy comes up behind me and grabs onto my hips, grinding into me to the music. Becca eyes his hands and gives me a small wink. My freewill doesn’t care that it isn’t Liam, I deserve some down time and if dancing with a random guy on Saturday night is what I want, then I’ll damn well do it! After a few songs of twirling, swinging and bouncing, realization hits me that this could be Liam, latched onto my hips with me tauntingly grinding against him. I haven’t turned to face him this whole time, and this isn’t the first impression I wanted to give if we’re going home together tonight. Being the devil in my own fate, and as my feet begin to hurt and the alcohol hits me like a ton of bricks, the drunken haze of thumping music, the flashing disco lights and dry fuzzy tongue, I decide I’ve had enough.
“I need some air!” I manage to shout at Becca.
“Okay! Go on, ill grab our jackets ill meet you outside!” she shouts back over the music, even after leaning in to me. Turning, and pushing gently at the other bodies pressed against mine, I meet the eyes of my dancing companion. Horror and shame wash over me as I gaze into the hazel green eyes of a burly man. It’s not Liam. Disappointment sits heavy as I shout my apologies and start pushing through the crowd towards the exit, realizing the guy I was dancing with is following behind me. The club is packed with people, from the neon lit bar to the curtain covered booths and the dance floor. I head for the stairs and carefully step down each one in my heels. Shouldn’t stair wells be luminous so drunken women like me can see where they’re going? The guy is hot on my heels when I reach the bottom. I’m up for some fun but not with this guy, so when we reach the exit and the frigid air of London hits me I turn to face him.
“Thanks for the dancing, but I’m not looking for anything” I smile politely at him, hoping he will let it go and go find some other girl. The guy isn’t exactly bad looking, black hair that could do with a cut, and a bit of stubble on his jawline. He’s shorter than me in my heels, and a slight pot belly sticks from his shirt.
“Oh, come on babe, I could show you the time of your life” he slurs at me. He doesn’t look drunk, could be drugs I guess. I don’t tolerate drugs, except alcohol. And the occasional cigarette.
“No, sorry. But thank you” I glance behind him, hoping Becca will be my saving grace here but as soon as the words are out of my mouth, he grabs my wrist in his fist, pulling me further away from the club entrance and pushing me against the cold brick wall. My wrist throbs under his trap and I try and wiggle it free. Pushing me further against the wall with his chest, I strug
gle to catch my breath under his weight. Realizing that he’d pulled me further than I thought, fear sets in as I eye the bouncers with their backs to us.
“Well, you shouldn’t have been such a slut in there then should you” he spits in my face, so I turn my head away and try in vain to yank my arm away. My chest feels tight in the freezing air, and I can’t seem to pull any oxygen into my lungs. My eyes sting with threatening tears and my mind fogs and flashes with the possibility of what might happen. I fought them off last time, I can do it again. I push with all my might against him, but it’s no use. My wrist is twisted awkwardly, my other hand clawing desperately at his, every muscle in my being has lost its strength. Scream Mia. He presses harder against me; the stale stench of alcohol invades my nostrils and his greasy hair strokes my cheek. “Don’t even think about it” he hisses against my skin, I instantly feel something cold and sharp pressed against my neck. The bile rises in my throat and my head swims. Waves of memories crash over me as I remember the pain mixed with the salty taste of my tears. I need to scream, but my throat scratches in fear, refusing to swallow against the sharp instrument. Pushing me further into the wall, the bricks scrape the tender skin of my spine visible through my top. Bruises form across my shoulders and my wrist as he leans further into me. Surely, he can’t possibly get any closer. Just as I think he’s finished tormenting me, he sticks his tongue out and drags the slimy organ across my cheek. Wet, sticky saliva mars my skin, burning as if he’d just branded me like cattle. Sober I might have been able to see some sense in this, I might have been able to fight.
What are you saying?
Damn it. Get it together. I won’t lie here and take this, I won’t give in like last time. I won’t. I can’t.
Powerless (Power Series Book 1) Page 8