Not The One (London Lovers #4)
Page 13
In only moments I break apart all over him and he pulls his face back to look up at me. His winded and awed expression is sexy as fuck. I pull my leg off and slide down to kneel, mirroring his stance. I bend over and take him in my mouth and he leans back on his heels to give me better purchase of his dick. His groans of my name along with the man he worships are echoing off the walls as I greedily return the distinct pleasure he brought me only seconds before.
“Does this mean you’re done thinking?” Liam asks breathlessly after I swallow down the entirety of his climax.
“It means I sucked your dick, Liam. Let’s not dissect every decision I make today.” No matter how poor they might be, I think to myself.
“Fair enough.” He plants a sloppy, satisfied kiss on me and grins while he cuts the water off. “Fuck that was hot.”
His mood is contagious as we both towel dry ourselves. We eventually separate to our prospective areas to get ready. I toss my wet hair into a topknot and throw on a pair of black jogging shorts that I stuffed in my bag. Rummaging around, I find a dark gray tank top. I throw on a pair of flip flops and I’m ready.
After a somewhat awkward breakfast, Liam informs me that we are going to take a couple of bicycles into town to sight see. Moments later, I step onto the deck of the boat to find Liam pulling the bikes out of the garden house. They’re antique with wicker baskets on the front. He’s dressed in a green pair of cargo shorts, black athletic sneakers, and black polo. He looks sporty and sexy with his tousled blond hair and nearly full, trimmed beard now.
“You ready?” He strides over and helps me up out of the boat.
“Yeah, sure. Where are we going?” I ask, eying the bikes dubiously.
“Everywhere.” He shoots me that proud boyish smile again and we’re off.
We peddle around all day, stopping at various spots and taking in the gorgeous sights. The awkwardness we had at breakfast is completely gone as we focus on the beauty that is Cambridge. It’s full of museums and art galleries. There are tons of quaint cobblestone passages situated amongst stunning architecture. Several of the roads are narrow and old, so bicycles are very popular even with the locals. We park our bikes and take a ride on a small punt down the river canal. It’s like a page straight out of a Venice brochure.
For most it would be incredibly romantic. For Liam and me, it’s just serene and peaceful. We silently take in our surroundings without even looking at each other. It’s almost like we both needed a minute alone with our thoughts.
Finally, we stop at a quaint pub for an early dinner and I realize that I haven’t stopped smiling since we started our adventurous day. Something about today feels so…healthy. So…replenishing.
Liam orders us two pints and we sidle up in a cozy booth. “Drink up,” he mumbles, downing half of his beer in one large swallow.
“What’s your deal?” I arch my brow curiously.
He looks off nervously. “No deal. Whatever do you mean?”
“Why are you acting so nervous all of the sudden?”
“I’m not, I’m fine. Let’s talk.” He pierces me with his stunning eyes and I feel that familiar pull I always have with him.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, averting my eyes and gazing out the window to watch a young boy throw rocks off a small bridge.
“How about Frank? He seems safe,” Liam offers helpfully.
“Frank,” I let out a hearty laugh. “He’s…interesting.”
“That he is,” he replies knowingly.
“How do you know him?” I ask, “We haven’t ever discussed it.”
Liam presses his plump lips together in the way he always does when he’s trying to come up with the right words. Finally, he replies, “Frank was just sort of there for me at a really awkward time and we became mates after that I guess.”
“What sort of awkward time?”
He grins. “I met this girl named Finley at a club one night. Not Club Taint. But yeah…I sort of fell for her. She was really the first person I’d been interested in since…”
His voice trails off and I nod knowingly. Clearing my throat I reply, “I met Finley you know.”
“You did? When?” His eyes widen with surprise.
“She stopped into Club Taint to see Frank one afternoon.”
“Ah. Yeah, her and Frank have a special friendship, too. Frank has an uncanny way of being exactly what you need right when you need it.”
“I’m getting that impression.” I take a sip of my Guinness. “So what happened between you and Finley?”
“She was never on the market, not truly. She wasn’t cheating or anything—” His voice stops mid sentence and his jaw drops in horror as he realizes what he said.
“We save that type of little transgression for the true gems, like me.” My voice is hard and flat as my eyes cast downward into my beer.
“Hey,” he reaches his hand across the table and touches my bawled up fists. “You weren’t alone there, Rey. If I recall, I was the one that pushed you.”
I shake my head sadly, feeling a familiar ache erupt beneath my chest. An ache for something I can never atone. And an ache for wondering why I always seem to put myself in these situations. “Finish your story.”
He looks at me sympathetically for a moment like he wants to dig deeper but has mercy on me. “There’s not a lot more to say, really. Her boyfriend surprised her from America. They had some bumpy roads I guess, but I’ve seen her since then and they seem genuinely happy.”
I nod and look out the window feeling oddly bereft. Would anyone fly over an ocean for me? Even if I wanted them to?
“What about you, Rey? Any romances since Oxford?”
I laugh maniacally. “Definitely not. Nothing for me has changed there. I’m not interested in anything serious with anybody. Ever. I hope you realize that, Liam. I know we’re complicating things right now, but this is all temporary, right?” Anxiety pulses over me as I take in his hardened eyes.
“Right. ‘Course.” He nods his head and downs the last of his beer. He hops up and orders us two more even though mine isn’t even half gone. “We better order our food. I made a six o’clock appointment.”
“For what?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
Just as the sun is setting, we pull up to a tattoo shop. You could knock me over with a feather I’m so surprised. I actually look across the street to see what else we could be doing in this neighborhood, but Liam grabs my hand and pulls me inside, squashing all my doubt.
“So who’s this surprise for? You or me?” I ask, staring at him as he bounces nervously on his feet.
“Me, but I need you here to do it or I won’t be able to follow through. I have a horrid fear of needles.” His voice is shaky as his eyes dart all around the room.
I laugh heartily as I take in the waiting area of Tattooing by Fabio. It’s a small tattoo studio with huge, colorful murals painted on every wall. Several retro, black and red vinyl loveseats sit around the perimeter of the waiting area with scattered photo books.
“Do you need to look at a book?” I ask.
“No, I emailed them the image I want.”
“Was there a reason you picked Tattooing by Fabio specifically?” I have to bite my lip to hide my urge to giggle.
“I read it was the best,” he mumbles haphazardly as the buzz of a tattoo gun in the back sends him practically leaping through the air.
A short, hipster-looking guy with a full beard, two eyebrow piercings and a slouched beanie comes strolling out. “You must be my six o’clock. Liam is it?” he drawls in a thick, Liverpool accent.
Liam stares at him without saying a word, his jaw moving but no sound coming out. “Yes, this is Liam,” I answer, moving up next to him and squeezing his arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I whisper up toward his face.
He nods silently and coughs. “Yes.”
“My name’s Skin. Come on back. There’s room for your girlfriend.” The guy turns on his heel and stride
s toward the back rooms.
Liam’s jaw muscle ticks uneasily as he lowers himself into the tattoo chair. He avoids my eyes as he pushes the short sleeve of his polo up onto his shoulder. Skin puts on a pair of black surgical gloves and brings the prepared temporary tattoo sheet over to him and they discuss the perfect placement. Liam wants it on the inside of his inner arm, right alongside his bicep. His muscles flex sexily as the seat reclines and he rests his hand on the back of his neck. It’s a hot location for a tattoo on a guy.
Skin rubs cleaning liquid over Liam’s arm and then places the temp on the area with some water. When he removes the water-permeable paper, it reveals an intricate compass with a black rose woven subtly inside the center. It’s incredible. I move to get a closer look as Skin turns to prepare the black ink inside the gun. I can feel Liam’s eyes on me as I drink in every exquisite detail.
“Beautiful,” I croak, wanting to touch it. Instead, I gently lift his elbow up more for a better look.
“What’s with you calling me beautiful?” Liam’s voice puffs warm, cinnamon air on my cheek. I turn my head and his eyes are swimming with mirth.
“I forgot, you prefer ruggedly handsome,” I reply sarcastically.
“I am getting a tattoo…That’s quite manly I’d say.” His brown eyes connect with mine.
“Beautiful is a good adjective I think,” Skin mumbles while still messing with his workshop area. “Beautiful can be manly.”
Liam and I smirk secretively at each other at Skin’s side commentary. “What inspired this? A compass?” I inquire, glancing at the design again.
He rubs his lips together before replying. “I just never seem to know what direction to take. Thought maybe this could help make me more decisive.”
I cock my head to the side, gazing at him. His eyes glance down to my mouth and just when I think he’s going to kiss me, Skin clears his throat from beside us. Liam’s eyes grow wide as he sees the tattoo gun, so I pull the wheelie stool up next to him. His hand shoots out and grabs mine tightly.
“This your first?” Skin asks knowingly. Liam nods and that makes the guy chuckle. “It’s not often that the girlfriend is more bad ass than the boyfriend.”
“She’s not my—”
“I cry like a baby with every tattoo,” I cut him off before he finishes. Something about this moment makes me want to feel like Liam’s girlfriend. It feels intimate and personal and I don’t want him to have to explain shit to this guy right now. I want to be in this moment and not think. I never had anybody special with me during any of my tattoos and I can’t help but think how nice it would have been if I had.
Liam looks at me curiously, his eyes swimming over every feature on my face like he’s trying to figure me out.
“Stop thinking…and don’t get squirrely on me.” I shoot him a wink and receive a satisfying, proud smirk back in response.
Suddenly, the tattoo gun clicks on and Liam’s face drops as Skin connects the needle with his arm for the first time. He slams his eyes shut and his brows furrow as his body takes a moment for the adrenaline to kick in and the numbing sensation to occur. I try not to smile because tattoos do hurt. It’s ink and needles for God’s sake. People that say it doesn’t hurt are full of it. But watching him flinch, I begin to feel jealous and twitchy to be in his place.
Once Liam relaxes into the pain, his eyes never leave mine. The intensity in them as I hold his hand to my chest becomes powerful and overwhelming. Every stab of the needle on his skin feels like a small stroke on my heart that I can’t understand. His gaze on me is saying so much that I can’t break eye contact with him for fear of falling. Even when the tears begin silently slipping down my cheeks, I don’t move from my frozen position beside him. This horribly, impossible emotion that’s overcoming me is holding me hostage. Liam pulls his hand free from mine and wipes the tears off my cheeks with the back of his finger. He bands his hand behind my neck and pulls me down onto his chest, dropping soft kisses into my hair. A pit quickly forms in my stomach at his tender touch.
Because I don’t want it.
Not a drop.
And it terrifies me to think of what will happen when we leave here tonight.
Part way through, Skin takes a break to grab a smoke. After using the restroom, I head out to the reception area and leisurely pick up a look book. The very first image I flip to pummels me out of nowhere. Feeling a sense of urgency, I duck outside to ask Skin if there’s another tattoo artist around. He says his girlfriend, Bones is available.
I double check to ensure that Liam is fine to do the second half by himself. He agrees, but watches me curiously.
“What are you going to get?” he asks.
“You’ll see when it’s done.”
I readjust my hair up on my head and feel invigorated at the idea of a new tattoo. I also feel extremely grateful for the space from Liam. Whatever was happening between us during his tat was intense and nothing like what I should be allowing to happen.
Bones strides into the other tattoo suite where I’m waiting anxiously. She’s a tall, thin, blonde with full sleeves on both sides. She’s efficient and makes quick work of the supplies and starts work on me in no time.
The tears fall like they always do. Fresh ink. It’s the best pain I’ve ever experienced. The design I selected is small and being etched into the inside of my wrist. Right along side the pocket watch. She finishes in fifteen minutes. Damn. The girl truly is an artist.
I step out of the room, wiping away my residual tears as Liam comes out of his. He rushes me quickly and strokes his thumb below my eyes. “You weren’t kidding about the crying.”
I laugh self-deprecatingly and attempt to pull away. “Nope, I cry every time. Even with yours apparently.”
“Show me.” His hand lovingly cups my cheek.
“Show me yours first.”
He lifts his arm and his is truly stunning. It’s covered in a clear second skin and his flesh below is just starting to redden and rise around the edges, but damn it’s hot. Tattooing by Fabio is legit.
I lift my wrist and pull back the white gauze covering the layer of clear second skin so he can fully visualize it. His fingers dance around the edges of it as he inspects the black Native American dream catcher I selected with the words “With Every Heartbeat, You Caught Me” scrawled beneath it. The text was something that came to me after my strange NICU dream, but I didn’t have the perfect setting idea for it yet. This dream catcher with four small feathers hanging from it was exactly what I didn’t even realize I wanted. As soon as I laid eyes on it, it reminded me of my father and how he’d catch me in his arms every time I ran to him.
“Wow, it’s perfect. Four black feathers…for your dad and sisters?”
I smile and nod at how Liam somehow always sees right through me. And how he was brave enough to bring up my sisters in public feels so…peculiar. Having him know this intimate detail about me is chilling.
Skin clears his throat near us, throttling our moment. We follow him up to the front to pay. When we walk out into the warm summer night, the sun has completely vanished along with any warm and fuzzies I was feeling earlier in the day.
“Do you want to pop over and get a drink?” Liam asks, his expression hopeful.
It scares the shit out of me. Suddenly my nerves prickle at all that is going down between us. I awkwardly reply, “No, I’m really tired. I’d rather just go back.”
He nods stoically and we hop back on the bikes. The night air is breathing some much needed reality back into my messed up psyche. This weekend was a horrid, horrid idea. Liam and I are anything but ‘friends’ right now. The way he’s looking at me? I don’t know what we are, but I know I don’t want it.
We both dress silently into our nightclothes, just like the evening before. What is it about the night that stirs up that nerve-wracking tension? It’s horribly awkward and completely sexually charged as I look down onto my sex-messed bed and wonder how I’m going to get any sleep in there.
I clear my throat and try to feign confidence. “Thanks for a nice weekend, Liam.” My voice has a sense of finality to it. “You were right, I did miss you. I’m glad we can be friends again.” I’m trying my hardest to be nice right now because my other option is to lash out at him and bring my bitch out. However, I don’t want to be mean to Liam. He doesn’t deserve it. But I know myself. I can only be pushed so far.
He smiles sadly and ruffles his messy hair. Pushing himself off the wall, he comes to lean over me. I crane my neck back to look at him as his hands slide around my waist and pull me into him.
“Liam,” I protest, pushing against his chest and trying to ignore the sexy, smooth ridges of his pecks. “We need to quit now or this is only going to get more fucked up.”
“I like fucked up.” He nuzzles his mouth into my neck and I flinch away from the intimate touch. Exhaling loudly, he pulls back and his brow furrows in frustration at the discomfort all over my face. “Bloody hell, Rey!” he growls and turns his head.
“What?” I ask, watching the twitch of that pesky jaw muscle.
“You know what!” He releases me and aggressively runs his hands through his hair, stepping back to the wall again. “Why are you doing this?”
“What am I doing?” My voice is forcibly high pitched. My actions shouldn’t be a surprise right now. This was supposed to be a casual weekend.
His eyes pummel me with a seriousness that I don’t dare look away from. “You’re pulling away, I can feel it. I felt it on the whole bloody ride back tonight. For fucks sake, Rey…You were different out there today. Didn’t you see that? You were vulnerable, warm, and wonderful in that secretive way that I always saw back at Oxford. Hell, you even did that weird introspective thing you do where it looks like you’re smelling the air and debating the meaning of life all inside your head.”