by Stacey Lynn
I couldn’t pull my eyes off his lips. His mouth. The way one of his teeth was slightly crooked, bent over a front tooth in the tiniest but cutest imperfection. And God. His jaw, his nose, his deep-set icy eyes that refused to look away from me.
I was a goner, at least for his body and his beauty.
“Nice to meet you, Liam.” I tripped over the words, my cheeks flushing with heat that had nothing to do with the Caribbean sun shining down on us.
No, it was pure lust and attraction kicking my butt.
He dropped my hand before I was prepared and I swayed toward him before I caught myself.
He noticed though and his gaze fell to my own mouth. It took everything I had not to swipe my tongue along my bottom lip, not to try to pull him toward me.
Good Lord, what was happening to me?
I shivered and pulled away, looked to the ocean but the bright blue on the ocean waters were nothing compared to the chilling blue in Liam’s eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. He was too close, too far away. Would I ever get off this roller coaster he’d buckled me into without warning and so quickly? I wasn’t prepared. I already knew I wouldn’t want to exit the ride.
And I’d already told my first lie.
It wouldn’t be my last.
“Perfect, polished, stunningly gorgeous.” He listed my attributes like I’d required them. I hadn’t, but I still took them. Tucked them away to a safe place. I’d replay them later with his raspy voice in my mind I could feel moving closer to me.
I shook off the haze of lust. “Liam.”
“But you’re sad. Or lost or hiding. And trust me, sweetheart, I’m going to find out what it is and why, and I won’t rest until I do.”
I jumped at the threat. Turned to him and my hands curled into fists. It didn’t matter how he saw so much, I had to do a better job of hiding it. “What?”
His hand was on my cheek, fingertips brushing a chunk of my hair back and tucking it behind my ear. Adoringly. He watched his own movements and looked at me. Raked my skin with his eyes again and I felt it like he had me in his arms.
“I’m not an idiot, Claudia. You don’t want to tell me something, don’t tell me. But don’t lie to me. I fucking hate it.”
He waited a beat. Or two. My heart slammed into my ribs with a force that had to be audible. I could do nothing but stare at him.
Then he dropped his hand from mine and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck, like he did so often. Nervous tick, maybe? I didn’t care.
I so cared.
He turned and pulled open the door to the bedroom with more force than necessary. “I’ll give you time to get settled. There’s a closet and dresser full of clothes for you. Help yourself and I’ll get food ready.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone.
“Crap,” I whispered into the humid air and turned back to the ocean. “You made a mess of that, Claudia.”
The view had no answer for me. No vocal advice to give me as I stared at the waters, them seeming less beautiful when all I could see was the disappointment in Liam’s eyes.
What did it matter? He was paying me. I was playing a part. There weren’t emotions involved in this.
I couldn’t let there be.
“Stay focused,” I murmured. “And then be free to do whatever the heck you want.”
I nodded once. As far as pep talks went, it sucked, but it was all I had. I left the view of the ocean and returned to my room. I’d dressed in linen shorts for the trip and they were now wrinkly from the airplane ride. I wanted a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a few moments to pull myself together.
Then I’d head down to the kitchen and tell the truth. Coming from me would be better than hearing it from someone else.
CHAPTER
NINE
LIAM
After I left Claudia’s room, I went to mine at the end of the hall and shut my door. There, I walked out to my balcony and inhaled the rich, salty air. Damn, I loved it here. It didn’t have anything I needed, like my band or my instruments besides a couple guitars and a piano in a small music room. I couldn’t record an album or plan a tour from this place, but Claudia was right.
It was always hell to leave and head back to the real world.
Whatever. I had bigger issues to deal with and that was currently figuring out what the beautiful, little liar was hiding from me.
Shitty liar she was. It was one word but her voice still trembled when she spoke it. I spent my life around greedy bastards who wanted nothing more than to take, take, take. I recognized a liar from a mile away.
I hated liars and I hated surprises. Both of which typically had the ability to bite me in the ass.
I’d had enough surprises in the last year. I didn’t want to put up with more.
Debating what to do—call her on it and demand the truth or figure it out on my own, I kicked off my shoes and pushed down my shorts. Pulling off my shirt, I tossed it to the floor with the rest of my crap.
I’d pick it up later. I had a housekeeper, but she only came once a week when I was here. I was adult enough to clean up my own shit.
Naked, I turned on the shower that was exposed to the outside with a thick wall of window and stepped in. When I bought the place, I imagined paparazzi sitting in a boat off the shore and snapping photos of me with a long-range lens but it hadn’t happened in five years, so I quit worrying about it. In the early morning, when I was typically in the shower, the sun shone in such a way it was impossible to see through the glass anyway.
Blowing out a breath, I braced my hands on the wall and let the jets do their job, pounding against my shoulders and let the water run down my back. The last twenty-four hours had been stressful, but that wasn’t what had me tied into knots.
It was her.
I couldn’t get her out of my head and I rarely thought of a woman in any more than passing interest. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t fucked her yet.
And just like that, my dick hardened, balls throbbed.
“Shit,” I grunted, and ignored my physical reaction to Claudia and her round, tight ass. Her luscious tits that would fit in my palms perfectly. Her trim waist. Wide brown eyes and that creamy skin. I couldn’t stop wondering if she’d taste as delicious and sweet as she looked.
Grabbing the shampoo, I tossed a large amount into my hands and then scrubbed my black hair. It was shaggy and I needed a cut, and it didn’t matter that I was focusing on my hair, or taking the damn shower and cleaning up, my dick was still hard, still thinking of Claudia.
“Fuck it,” I muttered. It wasn’t the first time I’d jacked off to her and I was certain it wouldn’t be the last.
I wrapped my hand around my length and gripped myself firmly, the soap from my body made the slide and tug easy. Dropping my head, the water sluiced down my back and I wrapped my fingers around my head before sliding back down to my base.
I took it slowly, groaning in pleasure at the thought of how tight she’d be. How long it would take me to get in there.
I continued working myself, long and hard pulls, short and quick movements until my hips were thrusting against my closed fist.
My climax came quickly, mere minutes after I started. It coiled in my spine and radiated down to my balls. They pulled tight and I threw my head back, opening my eyes, and right as I came, I saw her…
Claudia.
On the patio a floor below, white short dress billowing out around her thighs, her hair blowing in the breeze.
But her eyes, those pretty, fucking beautiful brown eyes were on me. Cheeks pinkened, her lips were parted.
I couldn’t help myself. I stared at her, even while my orgasm left me, but my heart was pounding ferociously against my chest. She continued watching me, her gaze on my hand, not my face. My cock turned sensitive, and I shuddered beneath the warm water every time I wrapped my fingers around the tip but hell if I was stopping.
Because she was watching me jack off to thoughts of her an
d she didn’t realize I could see her.
Until she did. Her eyes jumped to mine and she turned quickly, scampering past the patio and down to the beach where she disappeared on the steps.
I quickly turned off the shower, toweled off, and threw on a pair of board shorts and slid into a pair of leather thong sandals.
Then I hurried after her.
Because she’d just told me what I’d been hoping—
I would have her…and it wouldn’t take as long as I originally thought.
CHAPTER
TEN
CLAUDIA
Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness.
I rushed down the wooden stairs to the sea, burning like I’d been set on fire.
Everything inside me screamed at me to turn back, to go to him.
I couldn’t. No way in God’s green Earth was I going back to face Liam, not after he’d just totally caught me watching him get himself off.
My cheeks were hot, my whole body was. The shame and embarrassment of being caught watching him—heck watching him in the first place was embarrassing and shameful.
At first, when I’d stepped out onto the patio, I had gone looking for him, assuming he’d be in the kitchen. But when he wasn’t there, I walked outside to get a better view of the pool and the ocean. The last thing I’d expected to see when I turned around was the shadow of his body in the shower encased behind a glass wall but fully visible to me. Cloudy from water drops from the shower, I could still make out the darkened ink on his arms and when that arm began moving, my feet had cemented themselves to the patio, my eyes frozen on his body.
His hand. Moving. Jerking. Head bowed. Hips thrusting.
It’d taken me approximately two seconds to realize what he was doing. I was so lost in rapture watching him I hadn’t even realized he was watching me.
God, he was beautiful. Muscled everywhere, and I’d just seen most of them moving.
But I shouldn’t have watched.
You also shouldn’t have liked it so much.
Worse, he’d caught me. And just like I did in Savannah when caught and embarrassed, I did the first thing I could think of.
I ran.
On the beach, I continued running from his home, along the shore, my bare feet burned from the hot, white sand until I walked closer to where sea washed to shore. With my feet sinking into wet sand, I slowed to a walk and kept moving.
I wouldn’t go far. But I couldn’t stay and I couldn’t sit there waiting for him.
Oh God. How humiliating. I dropped my face into my hands and then pushed my hands back, gathering my hair into a fist at my neck. Barely long enough to pull into a ponytail I hadn’t even considered putting it up when I left the house.
My swimsuit cover dress continued flying up to my thighs and hips but I had the most conservative bikini on I could find beneath it.
And conservative was a stretch. A few triangles and strings in a navy and pink striped pattern, it barely covered my breasts yet everything in the closet was my size.
I’d been shocked before I remembered having to give my measurements to Karen.
It figured a man like Liam would have minions able to purchase an entire wardrobe for me and deliver it to the Caribbean in a day’s time.
God.
How was I going to face him again? Perhaps now I could tell him the truth. He’d be pissed, we could part ways, and he could find a new girl to sweeten up his public image. It certainly wasn’t going to be me.
I was going to sully him further.
Keeping my eyes on the teal, crystal-clear waters, I stayed on the edge of the shore, kicking the water and letting my feet sink into the mud.
It didn’t matter what I did, how much time I wasted. My thoughts continued drifting to Liam.
His body. His hand sliding. The bend of his arm that couldn’t disguise what he was doing. All that ink on his arms. His chest…and a completely bare back.
Closing my eyes, I huffed out a deep breath. I’d apologize. I’d get through the embarrassment, probably the teasing he’d dish out, and we’d move on.
By tomorrow, I should be on a plane back to New York, back at Karen’s assistant desk, and this whole ridiculous idea would be over.
Or you could stay and let that delicious man take you places you’ve only dreamed of.
“Or I could be an idiot and talk to myself,” I muttered to the water.
I wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted someone to relieve me of my V-status, but did I want it with a man who’d been with an untold number of women?
No.
Yes.
I could lie to myself but my body was showing how much it disagreed.
As I’d watched him, my physical response had been as obvious as what he was doing. My core had throbbed, clenched with excitement. My skin flushed. I could blame the embarrassment on the hot sensation singeing my blood.
Embarrassment and shame didn’t explain why my nipples were still hard. Still tingling.
Darn it.
Heaving another breath, I turned, intent on heading back to his house, to the difficult conversation awaiting me, and stopped short.
He was there.
Sitting on the bottom wood step that led to his patio and his beautiful house, the perfect mixture of beauty and Caribbean. A little bit Spanish-styled, a whole lot of perfect. I’d miss it.
I told myself I wouldn’t miss the man sitting on his ass, legs spread wide and bent. Feet buried in the hot sand and his forearms on his knees, hands dangling between them.
His gaze on me, even though his eyes were hidden beneath mirrored sunglasses, he had his head turned in my direction, watching me take slow, painful steps back toward him.
Good grief. What was I supposed to say to him? I like your shower? Great view?
If I was sassier, raised in a way that allowed me to speak my mind and not hide everything behind the perfect facade, I probably could.
“You hungry? I have prawns marinating and the rest of dinner prepared.”
He cooked. And heaven help me, but the idea of seeing him in a kitchen or working a grill was sexy.
I eyed him suspiciously.
“You’re not going to give me a hard time?”
A smirk twisted his lips and he rubbed his hands together. Oh God, the entendre.
“Do you want me to give you a hard time?”
I flushed from my roots to my toes. Shaking his head, his mop of thick black hair swished back and forth.
“No.”
“I think I’ll give you a pass. You look either ready to flee or puke.”
“I’m not going to puke.”
Two brows rose above his frames. “But you are going to flee?”
It was now or never. Before whatever this was went any further, he had the right to know. “Why don’t we continue this inside?”
I stayed still under his silent inspection. I couldn’t see his eyes. But feel them? They touched every part of my exposed skin and some hidden ones.
“We’ll see.” Swinging out his arm, he gestured for me to lead the way. I stepped toward the stairs but he stopped me when I placed a hand on the railing. “I was trying to let it go. Planned on it.”
Oh…I felt that ‘but’ coming before he spoke it.
“But I gotta tell you, sweetheart. I really fuckin’ like that you saw me doing what I was doing earlier, especially since I was thinking of you while I was doing it.”
I gasped. I’d been mid-step as he spoke and I missed the step completely, wobbling as I gained my firm footing.
Who was I kidding? I wasn’t on firm anything. I was sinking.
In Liam.
I refused to show it.
Behind me, a soft chuckle fell over me, and I straightened my shoulders and spine.
“We need to talk.”
“Sure. As long as you realize for the next year you’re mine and nothing you’ll say will change that, I’m all for talking.”
I headed up the stairs, pretending I couldn’t feel his eyes g
lued to my backside the entire way.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
LIAM
She pulled to a quick stop as soon as she reached the sliding doors that opened into the dining area and kitchen.
Slowly, her eyes wandered around the large space. She didn’t have to look at me or say anything to show her shock at the spread I had laid out after my shower. As soon as I stepped out, I planned on going to her, taking her.
Then I remembered my plan to seduce her. Win her. Tempt her. The victory after a hard-fought long game was always sweeter than a quick claiming, anyway. Still didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy watching her blush as I brought it up, though.
So, yeah, I was starting with dinner. I wasn’t just hungry, I had an unexplainable urge to prove to her I wasn’t some jackass rock star.
Despite the fame and the money and the multiple houses and all the amazing shit, sometimes just shitty shit, that came with my life, I was still just a guy raised in Kansas with decent fucking morals. I just happened to have a killer voice, hard work ethic, and a body that I worked hard to drive the ladies wild.
So, I’d let her run. She couldn’t go far and I’d bide my time. While waiting, I’d prepared the prawns that I’d throw on the grill soon. Then I made a Caesar salad, chopped up a bowl of fruit, and drizzled asparagus with garlic and coconut oil.
Next to all of it, sitting in a silver bucket filled with ice was a bottle of white wine.
“I’m impressed,” she said quietly, stepping up to the kitchen island. “And your island here is larger than my entire kitchen in New York.”
“Everything’s small in New York besides the city itself and the size of people’s egos and dreams.”
She shot me a look. I took off my sunglasses and shrugged. It was true. Most big cities felt that way to me.
“True,” she mumbled and turned back to the food. “Did you prepare this all yourself?”
I reached for the wine and glasses and grinned.