While in the bathroom with the door closed, Liam has left his bedroom door wide open, and the letter is lying, unfolded, in the middle of his floor as if he wants me to look at it.
I take a step forward and . . . oh no, I tripped into his room, landing just an inch away from this evidently life-shattering letter I shouldn’t be looking at.
My eyes are closed to respect his privacy but when I hear a crash come from the bathroom, my eyes flash open, forcing me to look at the upside-down letter.
Crap. I shimmy to the right, pivoting around in a circle, looking like a freaking second hand on a clock. What is wrong with me? Loose screw. I have a loose screw and I accuse others of being crazy.
But as my eyes focus on the right-side-up letter, my mind goes haywire. Whoa.
I’ve avoided Liam like the plague for the last three hours because um . . . yeah, I know too much, his life has probably just been flipped upside down, and I have a big mouth that I need to learn to control really quick. I can’t comprehend the ins and outs, and the who-knows-what details of this situation. Sam must know, considering Dylan is a minor, but if Sam knows, why would Liam need a DNA test?
My brain hurts.
Dylan and I have been watching a movie for the last hour, but he’s getting fidgety, and the clock is ticking closer to four, which means Sam and Daniel will be home soon, probably in tornado mode to prepare for tonight.
“You need to go pick out something for Dylan to wear tonight or he’ll come down in a wetsuit,” Liam calls down from the top of the stairs.
I turn my head, looking at Dylan. “Is that true? You’d really wear a wetsuit to one of your parents’ parties?” I can’t help but laugh at the thought of it.
“It would embarrass them, so why not?” Sarcasm. I like it.
“I hear ya, buddy. I’d probably do the same thing at your age.” I nod my head toward the stairwell, and Dylan groans as he drags himself from the couch and up the stairs.
“I hate these stupid parties,” Dylan grunts.
“What’s so bad about them. I thought you were happy that Leelee is coming?”
“Everyone gets drunk, loud, and stupid,” he says. His words—words from a ten year old’s mouth—surprise me. How does he know what drunk even means? That’s awful.
“Drunk?” I press.
“Yeah, you know, like they drink a lot of beer and wine, and suddenly they’re acting like stupid eight-year-olds.” He does have a pretty accurate way of describing the scene of drunk adults. “It’s not like I can sleep through it, yet I’m forced to go to bed at nine while the other neighborhood kids get to stay up until their parents go home.”
I’m gathering this is a common party for the area. “Do they have parties at the other neighborhood houses too?” I ask as we enter his room.
“Every week, someone from the neighborhood has a big party. It's annoying.” It sounds kind of fun, but maybe not for Dylan.
“You know,” I sit down on the edge of his bed. “You have peanut butter stretching from the corner of your mouth all the way to your ear.” I try to keep my face straight as I tell him this, but he erupts into laughter.
“Do I look like the Joker?”
“You kind of do,” I tell him with a smile. “I’ll get you a face cloth, and you look for something other than a wetsuit to wear tonight, okay? Be right back.”
I cross the hall into the bathroom, running into Liam, who’s scrubbing the sink. He’s scrubbing it so hard, he might be taking the finishing polish off the Granite countertop. “What do you need?” he asks coldly.
“Just a face cloth for Dylan.”
He turns around and grabs one from the towel rack, then tosses it at me. “Here.”
I kind of feel like we’re back to square one with his pissiness. While I understand he has a reason to feel whatever he’s feeling, I’m not going to take the brunt of it. I nudge him away from the sink with my hip so I can turn the faucet on. “Excuse me.”
He stumbles backward, probably from my unexpected shove. “Watch it,” he says.
“Um, how about you stop being rude?”
He pushes me back, not even giving me enough time to wet the damn face cloth.
That’s it. I grab ahold of the sink as he’s still trying to keep me away from reaching the faucet and I manage to shimmy in front of him, crunching myself between the sink and his solid body.
“Really?” he says. “You’re such a child.”
“Me?” I shout back. “You’re the one who won’t let me get some water.”
Liam takes a step back and leans toward the bathroom door, slamming and locking it before stalking back over to me.
I attempt to ignore his animalistic predator-like behavior while I keep my focus on soaking the cloth way more than needed. Liam grabs me by the waist and pushes me against the sink, forcing me to watch the dark glare of his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. As his focus skates down the length of my neck, my body stiffens in preparation for what he’ll do next.
His eagerness is apparent as his lips firmly connect with a spot beneath my ear, sucking, and nipping until a moan purrs in my throat.
It doesn’t take long before my knees weaken and threaten to give out on me. “Liam,” I mutter.
He doesn’t stop, though. His tongue is drawing circles as his teeth are pressing into my sensitive flesh, and his lips are sucking. I keep my grip firm on the vanity, holding myself up, trying not to look at our reflection because if I do again, we aren’t leaving this bathroom anytime soon.
His hands slide up the front of my body, slipping under my loose camisole and tugging at my bra to maneuver his hands beneath the material as he pinches both of my nipples between his calloused fingertips.
As if the kissing and nipple clamping weren’t enough of a sensation overdrive, his cock jackknifes upward, pegging me in the back. “What about Dylan?” I mutter. So super hot, but I’m supposed to be Dylan’s nanny right now.
“He’s ten and looking for clothes. He’ll be fine for a few minutes,” Liam whispers into my ear.
“You only need a few minutes?”
I watch the reflection of my brow rise questioningly while meeting his gaze in the mirror. He spins me around and lifts me up, placing me down on the counter top.
“I need to clear my mind before tonight, okay?”
“Clear your mind from what?” Maybe this isn’t the best time to press my luck, but I want to know what’s going through his head.
“Julia,” he says firmly, looking me straight in the eyes. “I’ve been trying to piece together parts of my life that have been very, very fucked up for a long time, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. I just want you . . . and that will help me right now. Can you do that without question, and without kicking me in the balls?”
I’m looking around the bathroom, trying to figure out how this will work, but knowing Liam, he’s already got a plan.
“Take your shorts off,” he says.
“But you just washed this countertop.”
“I’ll wash it again.”
I unbutton my shorts and shrug them over my thighs until they slip over my knees and fall to the ground. His hands graze up my thighs until his thumbs slip beneath my panties. “You’re already wet for me,” he mutters against my cheek.
“I guess that means you should stop talking and start doing something about that . . .” I don’t know who I am or who I’ve become since Liam has entered my life, but I have never felt so alive with whatever the hell this is going on between us.
He lifts me back off the sink and strips the belt from his pants, creating a whipping sound. Confused for only a second, he grabs my hands, pulling them behind me and binding them together. My heart is pounding, my pulse is thundering within my ears, and I’m dripping between my legs. Holy crap, this is hot.
“Get down on your knees,” he says, pointing to the small bath mat in front of the shower.
With the ache throbbing between my legs and my apprehension of Dylan nee
ding something, I do as he says, instantly realizing I can’t catch myself with bound wrists held behind my back. I fall against the bath mat, my cheek smashing into the plush threads, and I try my best to balance the rest of my body on my knees. Do I look as weird as I feel? I’m like all ass right now. He’s probably looking right into that dark hole of wonder, and I don’t even know what it truly looks like. I always hear about anal bleaching, and I never knew why, but I’m suddenly super self-conscious about not doing that.
Adding that to my to-do list.
Without being able to see anything but the door in front of me, I hear the zipper on his jeans tear apart. My panties are pulled down, and while I was expecting a thick plunge into the darkness, I’m taken completely off guard as I feel his tongue tracing a straight line from the small of my back, down. Down. Down. Um . . . so . . . a finger is one thing, but . . .
Oh. Okay. So we’re doing this.
Um. Wow, yeah, I—whoaaa. Okay. Oh, my God.
Seriously though, what if I just pooped like twenty minutes ago? He would have no—no . . . Oh, ah, oh . . . God, “Mmm,” I moan, nearly breathless.
“I knew you’d like that,” he says, pausing his tongue play.
Without much of an intermission, his tongue continues down further, reaching what I would have considered a more normal place to land. I won’t complain about the path he has chosen to take, though, I can’t help thinking about the whole wipe front to back thing. Great, I’ll probably end up with some kind of yeast infection now, but—I—I . . .”Oh, holy shit,” I cry loudly.
“Shh,” he reminds me. He has to because I think his tongue might be licking my ovaries . . . is that possible? No, no, it’s not, but oh holy wow, it kind of feels that way. I can feel him through every inch of my body as he flicks and twists his tongue. He hums as his tongue glides against the outer fleshy area and my body is bucking so hard, I’m afraid I’ll hurt him.
Just as I come to the edge of screaming a string of every obscenity I know, his cock plunges into me with ease, filling me entirely.
He holds me up by my breasts and pumps into me fast, hard, and rough, accompanied by quiet growls of pleasure purring from his throat.
After several moments of agonizing pleasure, Liam flips me over until my back is resting on my bound wrists. He presses my knees apart and dips back inside, holding himself up with one hand as if he were doing pushups, and I was the floor holding him up. The look on his face is one of anger, but at the same time, pleasure and relief.
He’s so fucking hot, and I know I can’t last while watching him ravage me the way he is. “Liam, I’m—”
“Not yet,” he grunts.
“I can’t help—”
He thrusts into me so hard, I cry out with a ferocious groan, releasing, unraveling, letting go, giving in, and surrendering everything I have to him.
As he seeps into me, the look of anger and pain morphs into contentment, and he collapses beside me, pulling the belt free from my wrists. “I got carried away,” he mutters.
I twist my head to look him in his beautiful eyes. “It was the hottest thing anyone has ever done to me.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks proudly.
“I have experience with inexperienced college guys, but you’re a man who knows what he’s doing.” Showering him with compliments, all I want to do is get him to talk and tell me what’s going through his head, but as he pulls himself up by the sink and adjusts his pants to rebutton them, I know our conversation is coming to an end.
“I’ll give you a minute to get dressed before I finish cleaning up the mess we made, you dirty girl.” He winks and leans down to give me a quick kiss before slipping out the door.
What are we doing? What am I doing? The words coming from my mouth when I talk to him are things I would have never dreamed of saying to anyone else. Yet, they just flow off the tip of my tongue like I’m an experienced porn star begging him to lick my ass. But seriously, who would have thought it would be that pleasurable. It does explain a lot about the dog species, I suppose.
I clean myself up and pull my panties and shorts on so I can make my escape into my own bathroom.
As I walk by Dylan’s room, I see the two of them sitting on the edge of his bed, back at the video games, both with the same look on their faces. It’s so obvious now.
“Buddy, we have to be on our best behavior tonight, okay?” I tell Dylan, although I suspect he’s not going to take what I’m saying too seriously.
“Sure,” he says with a smile.
“Dylan, it’s my first party with you. Don’t make me look bad.”
He rolls his eyes. “Julia, look in the mirror. I don’t have to do that because you’re doing such a good job of it yourself.” Yeah, my mouth falls open. I can’t believe he just said that to me. “Just put a little make-up on and maybe something other than jean shorts and you’ll be okay.”
“Dylan!”
“Just saying how it is,” he says, unfazed by the rude things he’s said to me.
“You don’t say that to a lady.”
“You’re not a lady,” he replies.” This kid is looking for a fight, and I’m not giving it to him.
“Fine, you’re right. I’m a man, correct?”
“You do have a little bit of a mustache.” For ten, he sure does know how to get under a woman’s skin.
“That’s enough,” I tell him.
“Mom has always told me honesty is the best policy.”
“That’s because your mom doesn’t want you dating at ten years old,” I retort. I probably shouldn’t have said that, but it is likely the case. I’ve heard the things these kids are getting into nowadays. “In any case, I’m going to go get ready, and it’s not because of what you said. I’ll be back here in ten minutes, and we’re going downstairs to join the party. Okay?”
“Suit yourself,” he says, mischievously.
I’m quick to throw on a simple sundress and powder my face, line my eyes, layer on some mascara and lipgloss, blah blah blah. I lean forward, glancing into the mirror, pushing my tongue into my top lip for mustache inspection. There is nothing there. That was just cruel.
I step into a pair of wedge sandals that lace up to the bottom of my calf and then spritz a mist of perfume into the air as I spin below it.
Done.
I haven’t seen Liam since I saw them playing video games a couple of hours ago, but I’m sure he’s been cooking up a storm downstairs. The house smells like decadent food mixed with the saltiness of the ocean air. It’s making my stomach speak out loud.
Dylan begrudgingly put on the clothes I laid out for him, and he looks dapper in his tan cargo shorts and white collared polo. “You look very handsome,” I tell him, pitching my elbow out for him to loop his arm though.
“You’re kidding me, right?” he asks with sarcastic laughter.
“I was just trying to be nice,” I tell him.
“Well, stop. It's annoying.”
“Kid, do you want to have a fight or something?” I’m leveling with him because he’s pushing every one of my buttons today.
He smiles sinisterly at me. “Actually, I can’t think of anything I’d love to do more.”
“Get downstairs,” I tell him, pointing at the stairwell.
He charmingly takes each step one at a time as if he were making some kind of debutant appearance, waving at people as he descends to the first floor.
I follow behind him, wondering what to expect when we get downstairs. When we do, I quickly notice no one is in the house.
“Who were you waving at?” I ask Dylan.
“The living room . . .” he says, giving me a “duh” look.
I continue to follow him outside into the backyard, where I haven’t spent much time yet. Though it’s beautiful back here, it screams adults only, so I’ve hesitated to take Dylan into this area. There’s a stone fireplace surrounded by an outdoor kitchen. The area is covered with an awning draped with hanging vines of greenery. There must be at least
fifty people out here, all dressed the same in their New England-style, light-colored clothing.
“Uh . . . hello, I have called you ten times today. Where were you?” Jade pops up behind me, followed by a girl around Dylan’s age, and two others a bit younger who both run off in a different direction. This must be Leelee. She’s a cutie with perfect blonde curls and dime-sized blue eyes. She’s dressed in a doll-styled white dress, finished off with golden gladiator sandals. Geez, I couldn’t imagine Mom ever caring that much about what I looked like at this girl’s age.
“Can I leave now?” she asks Jade. “I want to go play with Dylan and the other kids.” Dylan. I turn around, finding he’s already MIA, but I spot him in the grassy area with a few other kids, seemingly plotting something bad as they look over at us, pointing and laughing. Great.
“Yes, go play,” Jade tells her, shooing her off.
“Sorry, I’ve had my phone on the nightstand all day. I’ve been running around trying to help Liam for this and taking care of Dylan. I forgot about my phone.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t talked in like two days, and that’s a record for us, which tells me you’re either mad at me, or getting it real good from some guy.” Jade wiggles her eyebrows at me before glancing around the party.
“We’ll go with the latter half of your assumption,” I say proudly.
Jade grabs my arms tightly and spins me around. “You and Liam are doing the dirty? Are the rumors true? Oh, my God, please tell me you’re getting wrecked by this guy. I know how badly you needed that.”
“Jade! My God, I know you have a dirty mind, but . . .”
“Sorry,” she laughs. “Cleary is like the dirtiest talker I’ve ever been with, and it’s sooooo hot.” I almost forgot about Cleary. I almost forgot about everything but Liam.
“You know, you haven’t exactly been easy to get ahold of these last couple of days. So, are you guys a thing now?” I ask.
“We’re just having fun,” she explains shortly, letting me know that whatever struggle she was dealing with emotionally is still there somewhere. Apparently, she’s just doing her best to mask it with sex.
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