Comfort Zone

by Missy Johnson

  He follows me into the kitchen and leans against the counter while I throw some things together onto a serving platter.

  “So, what were you doing before this course?” he asks.

  “I was an animal handler,” I say. I smile at memories, which feel like a life time ago. “I worked for Panavision Studios. It was my job to handle the animals in between shoots. I worked with everything from snakes, to cute little puppies.”

  “Impressive,” he comments. “Did you meet anyone famous?”

  “Loads of movie stars,” I say. I love bragging about all the stars I’ve met. “I helped Channing Tatum control his cat twice.”

  “Ah yes,” Liam nods seriously. “I heard he has a very disobedient pussy.”

  “I thought pussy jokes were my thing,” I tease.

  “They are, but I like to mess with them, too,” he grins.

  “What about you? I ask. “What made you want to teach?”

  He laughs. “Nothing. I didn’t want to. Hell, I still don’t. It was supposed to be a filler until I figured out what I wanted.”

  “And you’re still working that out?”

  “I’m…content with where I am.” He glances down at the counter, and then back up at me.

  “Was veterinary science ever on the agenda for you?” I’m genuinely interested in how he completed his studies and ended up teaching.

  “Sure. It was my passion. I’d wanted to be a vet since I was a little boy.”

  “Then what happened?” I don’t get it. He has the qualifications and the passion. What’s stopping him for achieving his dream? “Is part of it because of your father?” He looks up at me in surprise, so I rush to add to my comment. “You mentioned that you have a difference of opinion toward your career. Choices.”

  “Maybe that's part of it.”

  “Is it worth sacrificing your own life, to mess with his?”

  “Maybe not, but it’s not that simple. Besides.” He steps around the counter and wraps his arms around my waist. “There are much more interesting and pressing things on my mind, right now.”

  “Really?” I grin, because I'd love to discuss these pressing matters with you.”

  He leans closer and cradles my face, his fingers trailing down my neck. He moves his hands lower, over my breasts and down my jeans. With one hand, he unbuttons them, and then raises his eyebrows at me.

  “Take those off.”

  I roll my jeans down over my thighs, and then kick them off. Then I loop my fingers around the band of my panties and roll them down too, doing my best to be seductive. I take his hand and lead him into the living room, sitting him down on the couch, then I climb onto his lap and straddle him, his cock pressing against me. Even through his jeans, I can feel how hard he is.

  “I’m incredibly turned on at the thought of fucking you like this,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  He runs his over my back, then down over my breasts. He smirks as my nipples go stiff, without him needing to touch them. I watch as he circles the tip of his little finger around my areola. He barely makes contact, but it’s enough that I nearly orgasm on the spot.

  “I’d love you to make you come like this.”

  He kisses me while I grind against him, doing my best to wind him up. He grunts, grabbing hold of my ass to keep me still, then he reaches between us to undo his jeans and free his cock. My mouth explores his, while my other hand explores his cock. I put his tip against my wetness, teasing him, as I gently rock myself against him.

  I don't even hear the front door open. The first indication that we’re not alone, is my father's voice floating through the house as he talks to my mother. I freeze, my grip on Liam’s dick tightening so hard he gasps.

  “Shit. That's my parent’s,” I hiss.

  Liam snorts, then starts laughing. One look at my expression and he stops laughing. I snatch up my clothes and toss them behind the couch, while he watches me in disbelief.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m gardening. What’s it look like?” I ask, climbing halfway over the back. “Are you coming, or not?”

  “I’m a grown man. I am not hiding behind the couch, from my girlfriend’s parents.”

  I stop and stare at him.

  Girlfriend?

  My eyes widen when couch begins to rock back, buckling under my weight. I cry out and grab hold of him, but it’s too late. He slips from my grasp as I fall back with the couch. Fuck. I gasp as a stab of pain rips through my ankle.

  “Get it off me,” I gasp as the base lands on my ankle. “Fuck, it hurts.”

  “I'm trying,” he growls,

  No, he’s not trying because he’s too busy laughing. It’s alright for him. I’m the one sprawled out naked, on the floor with a couch on my foot.

  “Becca? Who screamed? And who’s car is out the front?”

  And there’s the topper.

  “Stay there, please, Mom,” I call out. I huddle as close to the couch as my foot will allow.

  “Becca, what are you doing? Why are you hiding behind the couch?” Mom’s voice sings out again, this time it’s much closer.

  “Because I’m building a fucking forte,” I snarl.

  “Rebecca Chamber’s, don't you take that tone with me—” Her voice stops. “Oh, hello Liam. It’s lovely to see you again.” The change in her tone makes me laugh.

  “You too, Mrs. Chambers.”

  “Oh, call me Karen,” Mom laughs.

  “Um, sorry to interrupt, but can we get this couch off me?” I snap. I’ve managed to get my shirt on and covered my legs with the throw rug from the couch.

  “What’s happening?” I groan. Dad.

  “Your daughter is trapped under the couch.”

  “Again?” Dad jokes. “Okay, you take that end, I’ll take this. Karen, you help Becca up.”

  Dad and Liam lift the couch, and Mom helps me get to my feet. I groan, my ankle aching where the foot of the couch had been crushing it. The relief is noticeable, but it still throbs like a mofo.

  I wrap the rug around me and hobble over to the armchair, using Mom for support. I sink into the chair, my heart racing. Three concerned faces peer down at me. Liam carefully lifts my leg onto his lap and examines the damage.

  “I don't think it's broken,” he says, running his fingers over the redness. “I think you’ve just sprained it.” He turns to Mom. “Karen, would you have any ice?”

  “I think so.” Mom disappears into the kitchen to get ice, while Dad answers the phone.

  “Just say it.” I glare at Liam, who smirks at me. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, just get it over with.”

  “I'm thinking that you’re such a tool,” he says. He leans forward and kisses, his fingers stroking my neck. I smile, because I needed that kiss. “But that’s okay. You know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you're my tool.”

  My heart melts. “Sorry I ruined our night,” I add.

  “Yeah. You’re supposed to be helping me relax, not creating more work for me.”

  “While I have your undivided attention,” Liam begins. “I was thinking we could go to the wedding together?”

  “Sure,” I say, smiling at him. Does he mean in the same car, or together, together?

  “In case I’m not being clear, I mean as a couple.”

  “I’d like that,” I say. I make a face, then laugh as he kisses my nose, then I sit back in the chair and glance at my phone again. Speaking of the wedding has me wondering yet again what the deal with Jake is. I try calling him again, but no answer. Then I have an idea.

  “Hey. Can I have your phone?” I ask Liam.

  He hands it to me without question. I scroll down to Jake’s name and press call. I’m willing him not to answer. When he does, my heart drops. He is avoiding me. My gaze meets Liam’s as I silently hand him the phone.

  I look up at Mom and thank her as she sets down a cup of tea next to me.

  “Are you
okay now?” she asks. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Sore.” I press my lips together. Liam’s hands wrap around my waist. I smile at him, he studies me, his eyes full of concern. “It’s more my dignity that’s in shreds.”

  And apparently, one of my closest friendships…

  Mom shakes her head. “Why didn’t you use the sock?”

  “Pardon?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  “The red sock? The one we keep above the door?”

  I’d always wondered what that was for…

  “If you don’t want…interruptions, then hang the sock from the tree closest to the fence?”

  She shakes her head, but I’m too busy being creeped out, because so many things from my teenage years are beginning to make sense.

  “That explains why you never followed that rule,” she shakes her head. “I thought you were being rebellious and trying to catch us having sex.”

  Liam snorts from behind me. I glare at Mom.

  “Yes, that was the dream. Who needs porn when I’ve got Mom and Dad in the other room?”

  I shudder. God, I feel sick. Liam chuckles and kisses me on my cheek.

  “How about we go to your room?”

  “Ugh. Good idea.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Becca

  I spend the next week doing not much at all to give my ankle as much rest as I can before Jake's wedding. That means no going out with Liam, no college, nothing, other than pottering around the house. I still have no idea whether Jake and I are okay, because one message and a letter over three whole weeks is not normal for our relationship. Before the party, we’d speak at least a few times a day, through text message or social media. To go from that, to this, with no explanation isn’t good enough. Brooke must have something to do with it. It was the only explanation. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past her to give him an ultimatum and it scares me that he might choose her over me. Maybe he already has.

  By Friday morning, I can weight bear on the ankle, so long as I have it strapped. It still twinges, but so long as I rest it and keep up the painkillers, I’m sure I’ll be fine.

  After lunch, I sit out the front of my house, on my suitcase, waiting for Liam. Thank God I’ve had him to distract me away from whatever is going on with Jake. The venue is only a twenty minute drive from my place, but Liam insisted that we stay for the weekend. I’m fine with that. A weekend in a luxury resort, with my hot new boyfriend, to watch my best friend marry a bitch who can’t stand me? It sounds like the perfect getaway.

  We arrive at the hotel and check Liam checks in, while I sit down on a couch, conveniently next to the elevators. My ankle is aching, even after the short drive, but I keep that to myself. I'm not letting it ruin the weekend for me. Liam glances at me as we walk to the elevator. We arrive at the hotel and check in. My ankle is already aching, but I keep that to myself. I'm not letting it ruin the weekend for me. Liam finishes at the desk and walks in my direction. I stand up and press the button. He smirks and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I raise my eyebrows and laugh when I feel something shift in his pants.

  “What?” he mutters. “I can’t help it if you’re too hard to resist.” He slides his hand between my legs and rubs my through my pants. I look around, alarmed, but thank fuck, we’re alone. “Hey,” he complains when I push his hand away. I walk into the elevator when the doors open. Liam follows, with our luggage.

  “Just so you know, if nobody else gets in this car, then I’m getting you off.”

  I snort and then think what the hell?

  “Fine.”

  I raise my eyebrows as he backs me against the wall and kisses me on the lips. The doors begin to close and Liam smirks, sure he’s won. Then out of nowhere, a hand appears, pushing the doors back open again. I laugh into my hand, trying to disguise it as a yawn. The man looks up and double takes. I glance down and realize my shirt is undone. Liam laughs as I quickly cover myself up, my face flaming red.

  The short ride feels like it takes forever. I stare at the numbers, watching them slowly rise, until it’s our floor. I squeeze through the doors while they’re still opening, staggering down the hallway laughing hysterically.

  “I don’t think his wife appericated your show,” Liam teases.

  “No, but that was your fault. You’re always messing with my buttons.”

  “Because you make them so easy to push,” he replies.

  I find our room and turn around, putting my hand out for the swipe card. Liam shakes his head, insisting on doing it himself. I roll my eyes and wait impatiently.

  “Hope you like it,” he says, stepping back to let me through.

  I gasp as I walk in. The view is stunning, but it’s everything else I love. The massive bed, fireplace, cozy two seater couch. It’s beautiful. It makes my Vegas room feel like a shack.

  “You like it?” he asks. “I know you like your little luxuries. You should try out the bed.”

  I take his advice and climb onto the huge bed. He joins me, pulling me into his arms. He kisses me softly on the lips, his tongue drawing circles around mine. I smile, my lips still tingling from his kisses as he moves down to kiss along my neck.

  “I can’t look at you without wanting to tear your clothes off and make you come harder than you have in your life,”

  I bite my lip, his words making me squirm.

  “Then maybe you should refrain from holding my hand in public,” I tease.

  He laughs. “I thought you were into public displays of affection.” He teases me, both with his words and his tongue. He takes my hand and puts my middle finger to his lips and slides it into his mouth.

  “You’re a natural,” I giggle, not entirely sure what he’s trying to achieve. Having my finger sucked isn’t high on my list of turn on’s. “Should be worried that you’re going to move on to bigger things?” I joke.

  “My gag reflex wouldn’t allow it,” he assures me.

  I’m about to respond when someone knocks on the door.

  “It’s probably Jake.”

  He sighs and rolls off the bed and stalks over to the door. I crawl to the end of the bed and sit, crossing my legs. If it is Jake, he won’t be leaving until he tells me why he’s been avoiding me.

  When he opens the door, my eyes widen in shock.

  No way.

  What’s the president of my university doing here, at my hotel room?

  My heart pounds as I wait for him to notice me, but he hasn’t even looked in my direction. He’s too focused on Liam to notice me sitting on the bed. This has to be about the comment in class, or the Facebook photo. I can’t let Liam take the blame for this alone. This was as much my fault as it was his.

  “Good evening, Becca.”

  I snap back to reality when I hear my name.

  “Evening,” I manage to say.

  “I hope you don't mind if I speak with my son alone for a moment?”

  It takes me a moment to figure out he’s talking about Liam.

  “Your son?”

  His brow furrows in confusion, but then he laughs.

  “You didn't tell her?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Oh, Liam.”

  “What are you doing here?” Liam asks, his teeth clenched.

  “Jake’s wedding.”

  I frown. Jake invited Liam’s father to his wedding and never thought to tell Liam? Maybe I don’t know Jake as well as I thought I did. I feel sorry for Liam, because I can see the pain in his eyes. As upset I am that he didn’t tell me, nobody deserves to feel unloved.

  “What?” Liam laughs, but there’s an uncertainty in his eyes. “Why would he invite you? And since when do you actually go to weddings?”

  “Jake and I have always been close.”

  “He’s the son you never had, you mean?” Liam baits. “So this has nothing to do with getting to me?”

  “Liam, I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk to you. That’s it.”

  “Fine,” Liam
snaps.

  “Good. Meet me downstairs in the bar. Ten minutes?”

  “Make it an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  He walks out, closing the door behind him. Liam turns around, so he’s facing me. He frowns, his eyes slowly meeting mine. At least he has the decency to be embarrassed.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I shake my head, because it doesn’t make sense. Was he worried that would scare me off, or didn’t he think that I would want to know that the professor I was sleeping with, also happens to be the president of the universities son?

  God, it sounds worse when I say it like that.

  “I should have told you.” He begins. “I don’t know what I was thinking, or maybe I wasn’t thinking in the first place.”

  “I’m on scholarship, Liam,” I get down from the bed and walk over to him. “I've made mistakes already, so the last thing I need is to give Mr. Michaels—sorry, your father, another reason to hate me. What if I get expelled?”

  “You won’t, trust me. This isn’t about you. He’s just trying to get under my skin.” Liam frowns at me. “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “Apparently I don’t know you, either,” I retort, glaring at him. “How would you feel if it were my father and I hadn't told you?”

  “It's a little different—”

  “Really? Because your position, which you’re not even sure you like all that much, is so much more important than my scholarship?” A pang of guilt stabs at me. That was a cheap shot.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters.

  He grabs one of the room keys and stalks out the door.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Liam

  I wander around the resort for a while, trying to blow off some steam. Eventually, I sit down near the pool and watch the water gently ripple against the cool breeze. Everything she said to me was right. She deserved to know and I should have told her. Like Jake should have told me he invited my father to the wedding.

  I was angry at first about that, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t say anything to Jake. The fact is, my father was right. He and Jake do get on. Probably better than I get on with my father. Anything I say to Jake would be out of jealously, nothing else.