by Alexis Angel
“Fuck you, man,” I grind out, shoving my chair back from my desk and stalking over to a table near the door. Is it too early for drinking? Now I’m not only conflicted over these out-of-nowhere and totally unfamiliar thoughts and feelings, but the guy who’s supposed to have my back is mocking me.
Connor turns and watches me pour a drink from my crystal decanter, his eyes narrowing. When I come back to the desk and sit back down, holding the drink but not yet tasting it, he looks at me more in shock than amusement.
“Okay. Wow. Obviously I hit a nerve. Sorry, dude. Want to talk about it?”
Do I? I’m not sure. Connor isn’t acting like a dick now, but I don’t know how I feel about telling him about Cara.
Ultimately, I decide to. He’s a smart guy. Always acting like my shrink and shit. Maybe he can give me some advice.
“So, I met this girl at the swim club the other day.” I proceed to tell him all about the mojito incident, about how I couldn’t get her off my mind the next day, and then about our date last night. Obviously I leave out all the sexy details because I’m not actually a total douche like the media makes me out to be.
When I’m done, I lean back and wait.
“Wow,” Connor says again, his lips curved in a disbelieving smile. “Never thought I’d see the day Liam Donovan was still hung up on a woman he’s already had sex with.”
Right?
But I can’t seem to get enough of her. “I don’t know what it is about her, man. But all I can think about is seeing her again. And not just because I want to fuck her. But I just want to be around her.”
I feel like such a pussy saying that shit, but it’s the truth. Connor doesn’t judge me, though. Hell, he’s been the one giving me hell for my string of one-night stands.
He’s watching me carefully, the wheels in his head obviously turning. “Well, obviously there’s something different about her. Maybe you need to figure out what that is. Maybe a second date is in order.”
I mull that over for a minute. A second date sounds like exactly what I want. But I’m not a second-date kind of guy. I don’t let myself get close. I have my reasons, none of which I care to think about, let alone discuss right now.
“You know that’s not me, Connor.”
“Hasn’t been before. Doesn’t mean it can’t be now. It’s about time you found the right one, dude.”
I scoff. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re just talking about second dates here.”
But I think about what Conner said. The fact that I can’t stop thinking about Cara and that the idea of a second date has me ready to leap for the phone has to mean something. What if she could be the one? There’s definitely something different about her. Something special. Not at all like the women I know.
And I’d be a fool to turn my back on that without finding out if there’s something more between us. As much as that goes against everything I’ve worked hard to avoid, it’s not enough to stop me.
I grab my phone, glancing up at Connor, and I feel a grin creep across my face.
He smiles back, encouraging me despite the look of sheer disbelief still displayed on his face.
Cara picks up on the third ring. “Liam.”
An unfamiliar feeling hits me smack in the chest, and it takes me a minute to respond. “Cara, what are you doing later?”
12
Cara
“And now the wine!” Léo proclaims excitedly, pushing a bottle of red into my hands. I look apprehensively at the chicken meat in the pot, and then tilt the bottle down, bathing the meat with red wine. “Good, good!” He cries out in his thick French accent, grabbing my hands and making me stop. “You have a knack for it!”
“Oh, I really doubt that,” I chuckle, wondering if I’ll ever be able to reproduce in my own kitchen what I’m doing here. I’ve always been a disaster when it came to cooking, and I seriously doubt that even a master chef like Léo will be able to change that. Still, no harm in trying, right?
If you’re wondering why I’m standing in the middle of Léo Moreau’s kitchen with an apron tied around my waist, that’s because Liam brought me here. Apparently, he thought that cooking lessons would be the perfect setting for a second date - and, guess what? He was absolutely right. This is challenging and, at the same time, fun. It sure as hell beats leaning against the counter of a bar and downing tequila shots in a frenzy - although, yeah, that can be fun as well.
“See? You’re not as bad at it as you said,” Liam laughs, sprinkling pepper over the chicken meat and then lowering the heat into a simmer.
“That’s because you and Léo are helping me out. If you guys weren’t here, I’d probably just set fire to the restaurant.”
“You really have self-esteem issues when it comes to cooking, don’t you?” He laughs again, one hand of his on my lower back as he shows me how to dice the mushrooms for the sauce.
“Ah, experience, Cara! It’s all about experience!” Léo says, clapping his hands together as he peeks over my shoulder, watching me handle the knife with Liam’s help. “Just keep at it and you’ll be a star in the kitchen!”
I laugh at that, imagining myself as the host of a Youtube cooking show. Caralyn, the wonder woman of ruining every single meal of the day - now that’d be a proper hit. Still, I gotta admit, I’m not doing so bad right now; I mean, it actually looks like this whole experience will result in something edible.
“If this turns out to be a disaster, I’ll still make you eat it,” I tease Liam, looking into his eyes and smiling. God, I can’t believe I’m having this much fun with him. And it’s not even the kind of superficial fun you have with a charismatic guy you just met at the bar; no, this is different. It’s the kind of fun where you can’t help but crave for more.
“Nah, you’re doing fine. After all, I’m here helping you out,” he shoots back, and I just hit him softly in the stomach with my elbow.
“That’s so humble of you,” I chuckle, even though I know he’s absolutely right. Scooping up a bit of flour with two fingers, taking it from the bowl in front of me, I then brush my fingers against his nose and laugh.
“Very funny,” he says, looking at me with a fake seriousness as he wipes the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. Then, his face lights up with a smile and he leans in slightly, kissing my forehead out of the blue.
I just stand there, stunned by it. Sometimes, the most intimate and profound moment comes in a simple shape - like a kiss in the forehead. It’s not always about sex or grand gestures, I think. You can fake desire, and you can fake these grand gestures - but you can’t fake these little gestures.
Smiling to myself, I turn my attention back to the stove and pretend to check on the meat. Inwardly, I’m thinking about my first meeting with Misty - she was completely out of control and, now that I’ve met Liam, I can’t help but think that she might just be a bitter ex with an axe to grind.
Ah, but why am I thinking of Misty right now? Sighing softly, I push all thoughts of her to the back of my mind and decide to enjoy my time with Liam.
We finish cooking the coq au vin, a traditional french dish, and then we take it out to the dining room. Léo bows out, retreating to the kitchen, and leaves me and Liam to enjoy our dinner. Which we do - and, surprisingly, it tastes amazing. Now, I can’t say it’s because of me, since I had lots of help, but even so... I’ve managed to cook something other than ashes, and that’s a clear victory!
We spend about an hour enjoying dinner - and a bottle of red wine, obviously - and we take our time with it. It’s late at night, Léo’s in the kitchen (probably readying it for tomorrow) and we’re alone in the restaurant's dining room, the dim lights from the candles in our table making the lines in Liam’s face look even more gorgeous.
“We should do this again,” I tell him, suddenly feeling like a little girl that was swept off her feet by the cool guy every woman craves.
“We should,” he repeats, and then just stares into my eyes, keeping his silence. I look back
at him, the silence in the room so deep I can even hear my heartbeat against my chest.
“What are you thinking about?” Liam asks me, his words cutting through the silence; reaching for my hand and grabbing it, his long fingers make mine look ridiculously small.
“I’m thinking about… Dessert,” I reply as I run my tongue between my lips, telling him the first thing that pops up into my mind.
“Dessert,” he laughs. “I could use some. What do you say we grab dessert somewhere else?” He asks me then, a devious smile dancing on his lips.
“Somewhere else…?” I ask him right back, returning his smile as I realize what’s on his mind.
“Yeah, somewhere else.”
“Like your place?”
“Nice thinking.”
13
Cara
After saying our goodbyes to Léon, we walk out arm-in-arm. Liam’s limo is parked right in front of the restaurant, and he leads me straight to it; just like he did on our first date, he opens the door and allows me to step inside.
The moment the doors close and the limo pulls into the road, the air around us seems to grow heavy with electricity. We both know what’s going to happen once we get to his place and, even though we haven’t said it out loud, we simply can’t wait till we get there.
I turn to him and, looking into his eyes, I part my lips by instinct.
Reaching for me and placing one hand on the nape of my neck, he leans in; my eyelids droop slowly, and our lips touch. For a moment, I forget all about Misty, plots and schemes; I just surrender to his kiss, allowing him to part my lips with the tip of his tongue.
Resting both hands on his waist, I let our tongues dance around one another, my pussy growing wet as my heart starts galloping inside my chest. You know, Liam’s actually a good kisser. He doesn’t slobber all over me, and he doesn’t act like your typical horny guy that just wants to get in your panties. He takes his time, softly kissing me and allowing desire to grow at its own pace inside me.
“Strawberry,” he whispers as he pulls back from me, looking into my eyes and smiling. “Your lips taste just like a ripe strawberry.” With that, he presses a button on his door, and a small door opens on the panel next to him, revealing a bowl of strawberries and a few flutes of champagnes; reaching for the bowl, he picks up a strawberry. Taking it to my mouth, he brushes it over my lips and I part them by instinct; never taking my eyes off of his, I dig my teeth into the tender strawberry and let its juices drip down my chin.
Still smiling, he places the bitten strawberry back in the bowl and leans into me again; he touches my chin with the tip of his tongue then, sliding it up to my lips as he scoops the strawberry juice. With a sigh, I place one hand on the back of his head and, tangling my fingers in his hair, I pull him into me and steal another kiss.
This time there’s no softness to the way our lips touch. Instead, we open our mouths as if we want to devour each other, our tongues no longer dancing but wrestling. Sliding his hands down the side of my body, he brings them around my body and allows his fingers to trace the curve of my ass, cupping my ass cheeks and pulling me into him. I don’t resist - I simply go for it, opening my legs and straddling him.
A shiver goes up my spine as I feel his crotch against mine, something hard and thick there pulsing against my inner thigh. Feeling his cock pressed against me, I kiss him even more fiercely and he responds by digging his fingers into my ass cheeks. My pussy becomes wetter with each passing second, and I can already feel the fabric of my thong completely drenched. If we keep going like this, soon enough my juices will be dripping down my legs.
I’m not the only one feeling like this, though - Liam’s cock seems so hard right now that I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing just tore its way out from his pants. And, more than hard, his cock feels like it’s very, very big… The kind of big that makes you gasp and wonder about the mechanics of sex.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” He whispers again, looking into my eyes as he holds me close to him. More than lust in the way with which he’s looking at me, there’s a kind of tenderness that I wasn’t expecting. I had created a mental image of Liam as this wild animal that only played by his own rules, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. He might actually have a soul.
God, I really need to reign myself in.
Okay, Cara, remember who Liam really is, don’t let him fool you, I think to myself, pulling back from him and breathing in deeply. Oh, it’s already too late for that, I continue to think. My eyes meet his again, and my body just starts working by itself.
Sliding one hand down his chest, I brush my fingers over his leather belt, and then flatten the palm of my hand against the hard shape tenting his pants. I hold my breath as I curl my fingers around it, my heart racing so fast that I feel dizzy for a moment.
Yeah, there’s no way I can wait till we get to his place.
Letting go of his cock and taking both my hands to his belt, I start unbuckling it slowly. I then undo the top button on his pants and push the zipper down. His cock pushes back against the fabric of his boxer briefs, and my eyes are immediately drawn to it.
“You drive me so fucking crazy, Cara,” he whispers, running his long fingers through my hair, the sound of his voice forcing my rational side to start shutting down. I can feel instinct taking over me and, hell, it feels amazing to give in to it.
“Maybe you’re the one driving me crazy,” I tell him, taking my gaze off of his cock and looking into his eyes teasingly.
“Maybe we’re driving each other crazy,” he replies with a soft chuckle, and that just makes me want him more. Biting on my lower lip, I take my hands to his shoulders and push his jacket down; he lets it fall down his arms and onto the seat, and by then my fingers are already fast at work on his tie. I loosen its knot and then pull it over his head, allowing the velvety fabric to slide off my fingers.
“I want you,” I find myself saying, unable to stop the words from escaping between my lips. His lips curl into a soft smile, and he brushes his lips against mine once more.
“So do I,” he whispers. I smile back at him, my mind succumbing to a whirlwind of lust. I start working on his shirt then, unbuttoning it slowly and revealing the toned muscles hiding under it. I’ve already seen how ripped Liam is but, to undress him like this, it feels like I’m unwrapping a present on Christmas’ morning.
I’m about to push his shirt down his arms when I feel something vibrating against my leg, a loud ringtone then making itself heard. “Crap,” Liam mutters, plunging his hand into the right pocket of his pants and taking his phone out. He looks at the screen and then looks up at me. “Cara… Sorry, I have to take this,” he tells me, and I simply roll to the side and pat down the front of my dress, straightening it over my legs.
“Hey,” he says, pressing the phone against his ear. “What’s going --” he starts, but then the words die in his throat and a heavy seriousness casts a shadow over his eyes. “Shit,” he mutters, pursing his lips, and then just stays in silence as he hears whatever the person on the other side of the line is telling him. “Okay, I’m on my way,” he finishes off, ending the call and throwing his phone to the side.
I remain in silence for a while, just watching the lines in his face grow deeper. More than just worry, there’s fear in his eyes.
Whatever happened, it was serious.
14
Liam
I lean forward and punch the button to lower the glass divider between us and my driver and tell him, “Take us to the hospital. As fast as you can. I don’t care how many laws you have to break.”
I raise the glass, then slump back against the seat, my mind spinning with the bomb my mother just dropped on me.
Cara looks over at me and rests her hand tentatively on my arm. “Liam? Is everything okay?”
The sound of her voice jolts me back to the present. Fuck. I’m so shell-shocked by what Mom just said that I momentarily forgot she was sitting right here. Looking down at my cock th
at obviously hasn’t forgotten where this night was headed, I tuck myself away, button my pants back up and give her a regretful smile.
“God, Cara, I’m so sorry.”
She shakes her head, her hair floating around her, making her look a bit like an angel. “Why are you sorry? Obviously something is very wrong. Are you all right?”
I blow out my breath through my teeth, almost a hiss. “Yes. No.” I shrug, struggling to find the words through the panic that’s starting to set in. “I mean yes, something is wrong. And no, I’m not sure I’m okay.”
Her eyes flick back and forth between mine, concern creasing her smooth forehead. “Is there anything I can do?”
She’s so unbelievably sweet right now, trying to make sure I’m okay, but also not wanting to pry. It makes me want to tell her everything.
“It’s my father,” I say, my frown deepening. “My mom just called to tell me he had a heart attack and he’s in the hospital.”
Cara’s hands fly to her mouth. “Oh, God. Liam, I’m so sorry.” She wraps her hands around my arm. “Is it… Is it serious?”
I shake my head tersely. “I don’t know. She didn’t say too much. Just made it clear that I needed to come now.”
I have no fucking idea how serious it is. All I know is that my family means everything to me. The idea of losing my dad—it makes me want to come unglued. Makes me want to take out the frustration I feel at being so completely helpless right now on something.
So I slam my fist into the leather seat, stress and adrenaline combining to create excess energy in my body that threatens to explode while I sit here in a fucking limo unable to do anything but wait on goddamn New York traffic.
I feel Cara’s eyes on me, and I look back at her, not sure what I’ll find on her face. I don’t let women into my personal thoughts, my personal life. That part of me is carefully guarded. Sealed away. Protected. I don’t like that right now everything I’m feeling is exposed, making me vulnerable.