His Property (Book Four)

by Hannah Ford

  I wasn’t about to tell her exactly why Liam needed security, i.e. the fact that he’d kidnapped me because of a gambling debt and the other day some random man had shared a dessert with me and then attacked me outside of a hotel room in Vegas.

  But even if she didn’t know any of that, she had to know that Liam was one of the richest men in the world. How could she think he didn’t need security?

  “Yes, well, Liam’s very successful,” I tried.

  She flicked her hand through the air in a dismissive gesture, as if being successful wasn’t a reason to need security. Was she that old school and/or naïve?

  “Liam’s always been paranoid,” she said. She was making her way to the other side of the room, and she opened the glass doors wider, pushing the curtains further aside to let more light in. “Ever since he was a little boy.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head. “He used to line his G.I. Joe dolls up around the perimeter of his bedroom. What four-year-old does that? But of course he’d seen that movie Home Alone, and he was just certain that anyone who even walked down our street was going to try to break in. And of course he was going to have to be the one to save us.” She shook her head.

  “Now,” she said, sighing and taking me in. “Let me look at you.” She took my hands and let her gaze run up my body. I was suddenly self-conscious at the fact that I was wearing just yoga pants and a t-shirt. I hadn’t showered since the night before, and I knew my hair probably looked windblown and wild.

  Suddenly, I wished that Marnie and Tevi had been here, or at least that I’d met Liam’s mother when I was wearing the outfit they’d put me in, the dress and sandals, my hair thick and wavy from the extensions, my makeup perfectly applied. Which I would have been able to do if my father wasn’t such a fuck-up.

  “We just got off the plane,” I said self-consciously, smoothing my yoga pants and pulling on the bottom of my t-shirt. “I haven’t had a chance to change or anything. I was going to change before we hit the golf course – ”

  “You’re gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.” She sighed. “Ahh, youth. You make sure you take care of your skin,” she instructed “You need to make sure to keep it looking like that.” She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a tube of sunscreen in a brand that I noticed from the pages of Maddie’s fashion magazines. “Here,” she said. “Take this. It’s the best on the market.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I can’t –”

  “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, that’s what I say, and it goes double for your skin.” She sighed like her skin was a complete mess, even though her face was smooth and unlined. “Liam’s at the gym?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked around at the state of the room. Our suitcases were standing upright, except for the one Liam had used to pull out his workout clothes. That one was sitting on the bench at the bottom of the bed, zipped back up. All of them matched, upholstered in the same smooth black leather.

  “This is crazy, living out of suitcases.” She unzipped Liam’s suitcase and looked at the meticulously folded contents. Then she shook her head. “And of course he won’t put his clothes in the drawers.”

  She was right, I realized. He wasn’t going to put his things in the drawers. Was it because he wanted to be able to make a quick getaway if he needed to?

  “You’ll stay at our house,” she declared. As if to make this decision official, she began moving all the suitcases toward the front door. “You’ll be so much more comfortable there. This place is beautiful, but it’s so sterile, you know? Not the same as staying with family. Okay?” She looked at me, her eyes hopeful. “You’ll stay with us? You and Liam?”

  “Umm…” I knew I should ask Liam first. This was his family, and I knew there had to have been a reason he’d wanted to stay in a hotel. It should have been his decision. But the way she was looking at me, I just couldn’t say no. And why should I? If Liam wasn’t going to tell me what was going on with his family, then why should I have to be the one to be rude to his mother? She’d been nothing but nice to me. “Sure,” I said finally.

  She smiled, revealing perfect teeth that definitely had to have been fake, but looked so real I was jealous. “You must be starving,” she said, crossing the room and picking up the phone. “I’ll get us some brunch.”

  It was a slightly presumptuous thing to do, her just walking in here and opening the curtains, ordering up room service, unzipping Liam’s suitcase. But isn’t that what mothers were supposed to do?

  They were supposed to breeze in like this and tell ridiculous stories about G.I. Joe dolls and insist you stay with them and make you feel like you were a kid, no matter how old you were. At least, that’s how it always was on movies and shows. I had nothing to compare it to in my own life.

  “Ham and cheese omelets and avocado toast?” she asked me as she dialed. “And coffee?”

  I smiled. “Sounds delicious.”

  When Liam got back from the gym forty minutes later, his mother and I had finished our brunch, and all that was left were dirty plates and a couple of stray crusts.

  Annabelle and I had been chatting for the past forty-five minutes, about TV shows and books and the difference between California and New York, all the while sipping coffee from small white and blue china cups.

  I found Liam’s mother to be quite charming and not at all stuck up or stuffy, the way I’d first pictured her. She loved watching all the same trashy reality TV I did, while her taste in novels tended toward hooky commercial thrillers.

  I’d almost forgotten she was Liam’s mother – she put me so at ease that I didn’t worry about impressing her or trying to make her like me. Instead, I felt like I’d known her for a while.

  But as soon as the door to the suite opened and Liam walked in, his presence changed everything.

  He commanded a room, always, like no one else I’d ever met, his masculinity permeating the air and overwhelming whatever had been going on before he got there. But it was even more on apparent now, when he came in and saw me sitting there with his mother, the two of us chatting like old friends.

  His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and I could tell it was taking an incredible amount of self-control for him not to show a reaction. And yet even as he kept his emotions carefully in check, his eyes took in the scene before him, the suitcases placed carefully by the door, the empty dishes from our breakfast, the way my knees were curled up underneath me in my chair.

  “Mother,” he said tightly.

  She stood up and rushed to him, kissing both of his cheeks and stepping back to study him. “Are you eating enough? You don’t look like you’re eating enough. Is he eating enough, Emery?”

  “I think so,” I said. “He’s always getting on me about making sure to have all things in moderation.”

  Liam shot me a look of disapproval. “Emery, you’re not dressed.”

  “Sorry.” I stood up, my eyes sliding to the huge white and silver chrome-faced clock that was mounted on one wall of the suite. It was twelve-fifteen. “I was just waiting for you to get back so I could jump in the shower.”

  “We don’t want to be late,” Liam said.

  “Oh, it’s fine,” his mother said. “If we have to push the tee time back, I’m sure they’ll be nothing but accommodating.” She winked at me. “The perks of having a famous son.”

  I smiled, but there was a heavy tension permeating the room now. Annabelle Rutherford was a force to be reckoned with, but she was no match for Liam. Liam took over a room, and he wasn’t going to be swayed by any of his mother’s antics.

  “It won’t take me long,” I promised, grabbing my suitcase from near the door and wheeling it into the bathroom’s huge separate dressing area.

  I shut the door to the bathroom, lingering a minute longer than I should have, waiting to see if I’d hear the murmur of voices.

  I did, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying – Liam sounded short, almost annoyed, and his mother
sounded like whatever he was upset about was no big deal.

  I took a shower, trying to be quick, washing my hair with a tropical shampoo that came out as a foam instead of a gel and a conditioner that was similarly light and airy. The water poured over my body, warm and comforting, beading off my skin and leaving my ass stinging where Liam had spanked me last night.

  I dried myself carefully, then blow dried my hair and twisted it into a messy ponytail. I applied some bb cream, a bronzer, a swipe of mascara and soft pink lip gloss. Then I dressed in a white golf skirt and a hot pink t-shirt.

  Gleaming white sneakers completed the look.

  I surveyed myself in the mirror. If nothing else, I at least looked like I belonged.

  I walked back into the living area.

  Liam’s mother was out on the patio now, talking to someone on her cell phone. Liam was sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the large room. He looked out of place behind it – the desk was there just for show. Everything about this room was supposed to feel tranquil and tropical, with relaxation being its main focus. It wasn’t supposed to be the kind of place you came to work.

  But of course Liam wasn’t able to relax for one moment.

  When he saw me standing in front of him, his eyes rose from his iPad and his gaze raked up my body.

  I swallowed and pulled on the skirt self-consciously.

  He got up and crossed the room to me, just as his mother came in from where she’d been out the balcony.

  “Your cousin is really stepping it up for this party,” she said to Liam, smiling as she ended the call. “You’ll love my nephew, Emery. He’s so – ”

  “Mom, you can go now,” Liam reported. “Emery and I will meet you on the course.”

  If Annabelle was startled by Liam’s admonishment and dismissal, she didn’t show it. Instead, she slipped her phone into her purse and gave my shoulder a squeeze as she walked by. “See you on the course, Emery.”

  “See you on the course, Annabelle.”

  Liam’s right eye twitched at me calling his mother by her first name. But she’d told me to. What was I supposed to do?

  When the door shut behind her, Liam didn’t say anything, instead staying silent while he continued to gaze at my body. He’d showered and changed in the other bathroom while I was getting ready, and his hair was damp, the top curling softly over his forehead. He was dressed in a navy blue golf shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and a pair of khaki shorts that showed off his muscular legs.

  “Is it okay?” I asked, self-conscious under his gaze. “Should I have gotten Tevi and Marnie? I mean, it’s a private golf course, I didn’t think there’d be paparazzi, but if your family thinks that I’m… I mean, of course I’ll do it for the party, but it just felt like overkill for golf.” I stopped to take a breath.

  Liam took my hand and began to lead me to the door of the suite. When we got there, he stopped abruptly, putting his hand on my hip and guiding my body until front of his.

  He spun me around so that my back was to him.

  His hands tangled with my ponytail, twisting it in his hands.

  “What part of ‘don’t talk to my parents without me’ wasn’t clear to you?” His words were dark and threatening, but his tone sounded sincerely curious, like he was wondering if perhaps he hadn’t been clear, when of course, he had.

  “She came up here, Liam, she knocked on the door.” My mouth had gone suddenly dry, and I licked my bottom lip. Liam’s hands grabbed my wrists and squeezed gently, just enough pressure to let me know he was in control, just enough pain to cause my pulse to leap and dance.

  He raised my arms over my head, slowly, then placed my hands on the double hook that hung over the back of the door, closing the fingers of each hand around each side of the hook.

  I held onto the metal as his fingertips grazed over my bare arms, down my sides until he got to my hips.

  “I thought I was very clear with you, Emery. Was I not?”

  “Yes,” I said, closing my eyes tight. “Yes, you were clear.”

  “But you disobeyed me.”

  I swallowed. There was no use in trying to convince him why my actions were justified. Talking back would just make it worse.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I disobeyed you.”

  Liam’s grip tightened on my hips and he angled me up toward him, so that my ass was thrust into the air. He leaned down, his body over mine, and his breath tickled my neck, causing the hairs there to stand up and my skin to prickle with hot goose bumps.

  I took in a shuddering breath. I turned my head, desperate for him to kiss me, aching to feel his mouth on mine. His touch had set my body on fire.

  Instead, he wrapped his hand tighter around the strands of my ponytail and pushed my head back toward the door, away from his lips.

  “You look so sexy, Emery.” he said, and now he was flipping up my pleated skirt, exposing the tiny white thong I was wearing underneath. “Jesus,” he whispered, his right hand caressing my bare butt as his left hand stayed on my hip, holding me up and angled toward him. “Just looking at you has my dick hard.”

  My pussy pounded and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the uncomfortable arousal that was building up inside of me. The movement earned me a sharp spank.

  “Stay still.”

  Another spank, barehanded, the flat of his palm stinging my flesh.

  He spanked me five times, with one on my panty-clad pussy for good measure. They weren’t particularly hard spanks, but that almost made it worse. Like the pressure he’d applied to my wrists a few moments ago, it was just enough to let me know he was in charge.

  When he was finished, he pushed my panties to the side, grazing his finger over the cleft of my pussy. I tensed, knowing he could tell how wet I was.

  Then suddenly, I felt his hands on the sides of my panties, pulling them down to my ankles.

  “Lift your feet.”

  I lifted them, one by one, my legs like jelly as he finished removing my panties.

  “You can take your arms down,” he instructed, and I turned around just in time to see him take my panties and put them in his pocket, the same way he’d done at the casino.

  That had been different, though. We’d been in a different situation, and we’d left soon after. Now I was about to spend the afternoon out on the golf course with his family, not to mention the other golfers and club patrons, and the skirt I was wearing now was much shorter than the dress I’d been wearing at the casino.

  “Liam. You can’t be serious.”

  He pushed his body against mine. He was granite, rock hard, and my breath hitched.

  “Remember last night?” he breathed. He cupped my chin and held me there, making sure I was staring into his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Remember how I pushed into you, how I made you mine?”

  My ass pulsed and my core clenched, as the memory of him on top of me flashed through my mind like lightning, and I could almost feel him pushing into my ass again, breaking my resistance the way he’d done with so many other things.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember what I said to you right before I did that?”

  I swallowed. “You said it was time I learned there were always consequences to my actions.”

  “Yes.” He moved away from me then. “It appears you didn’t learn your lesson.” He reached behind me and turned the knob on the hotel room door. “Now come on. We’re going to be late.”

  4

  Extreme wealth was something I’d never been exposed to.

  Sure, there were kids at my college who had money. They drove expensive cars with payments that came directly out of their parents’ checking accounts, and they never had to worry about anxiety-producing things like financial aid or student loans. They paid for their books in one fell swoop, slipping their shiny debit cards through the machine without more than a passing glance at the total, never worrying about whether or not the money woul
d be in their accounts or what they would have to go without in order to pay for their books.

  But that kind of wealth – or what I’d thought was wealth – was nothing compared to the kind of wealth that existed in Liam’s world.

  And as soon as I got out onto that gold course, it was all around.

  It was on the designer shoes that everyone was wearing, the gold jewelry the men wore around their necks, the diamond earrings and huge engagement rings that sparkled off the women, jewels so big that they seemed almost… obscene. I couldn’t imagine having that kind of money, couldn’t imagine a world in which it would be okay to spend tens of thousands of dollars on a ring when you could use that money for a year of school.

  It just seemed… wasteful.

  And then I remembered how easily Liam had written that check for me, the one for my tuition, handing it over like it was nothing. These people had so much money that it didn’t matter.

  And the thing that was the craziest was that Liam was probably the richest man on this entire golf course of rich people. It was enough to make my head spin.

  “I’ve never played golf before, I told you that, right?” I asked as Liam and I walked over to the clubhouse where we were supposed to be meeting his parents. In the distance, I could see the driving range, and I watched as the golfers sliced their clubs through the air perfectly, their backs straight, their swings making a perfect arc.

  “Yes, you told me that, Emery.” Liam sounded amused, and I wondered if we were both imagining the same thing -- me hitting some poor man on the head with a golf ball, Liam’s mother yelling “Four!” while everyone ducked.

  A man of about thirty or so passed us, his white shorts perfectly pleated and white. He gave me a little nod and a smile.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” I said automatically.