I left the closet to find Mimi, Rocco and Carol carrying out the last of their supplies.
“Thank you,” I said, hugging them all. “You made me feel like a princess.”
“Aw…” Rocco waved his hands in front of his teary eyes. “I just love a makeover. Your look totally shuts it down.”
I offered to help with their load, but they waved me off.
I at least walked them to the front door, said my goodbyes, then wandered the cavernous house looking for Liam.
I finally found him slouched in a deep white leather chair, watching The Dark Knight in a tiered-seating theater room with a garage door–sized screen.
“I wondered where you were hiding,” I said, trying not to let it bother me that I’d had to find him at all. In my perfect world, he’d have been with me the whole time. But then realistically, that wouldn’t have worked, because the last thing I wanted was for him to see me naked.
He looked in my direction and reached for a remote to mute the sound.
I stepped in front of him, striking a pose and fluffing my hair. “What do you think?”
“Christ…”
I nibbled the corner of my lower lip. “Is that good or bad?”
He held up his right hand, beckoning me closer.
I stepped between his spread legs.
He settled his hands on my waist, then slid them down, down, burning a trail on my outer thighs. When his position wouldn’t allow his hands to reach lower, he bunched my dress up, easing his hands under before launching his journey back up, up, until he was cupping my inner thighs and I grew wet anticipating what might happen next. He sat taller, leaning forward while slipping those roving hands of his around to my ass, where he tugged at my panties, pulling them down until they rested against my boots.
Air flowed under my raised skirt, cooling me, confusing me, maddening me with a ghostly tickle.
Before I had time to even acknowledge what had just happened, he raised my skirt all the way, revealing my most private place in a most public manner. We might have been in his home, but I felt as if we were in a real theater. I froze, not sure about my next move. But then all thought was gone when he was moving again, and spreading my legs wider, and kissing and taunting and teasing. When he tongued my slit, I gasped, bracing myself by planting my fingers in his hair.
Propriety demanded I stop him, but why, when his tonguing felt so good?
He found the pulsing center of my universe and flicked it over and over until I couldn’t help arching my head back and moaning my pleasure. This was too much. The building, blinding pressure. The movie’s chaotic light played against my hooded eyes, casting fractured slashes of color and sensation through my mind. Higher and higher he took me until finding more became my only life’s goal. More pleasure, more release, more everything…
When my O hit, it pushed me with the pressure of a rogue wave. I almost stumbled backward, but Liam was there, holding me, stroking me, petting me. And then he was letting my skirt fall, shutting the curtain on our scene, tugging me onto his lap where I curled against him, into him, kissing his neck and jaw and lips.
God, the sweetness of his lips.
We sat there forever. Kissing, exploring, reacquainting ourselves with each other.
While I rested my cheek against his chest, he combed his fingers through my loose curls.
“In case you were wondering,” he said, “I like your hair.”
41
Liam
Knowing what I must tell Ella, the reason why I hadn’t stayed with her during her transformation, I shouldn’t have done this. I should have kept my hands to myself and her clothes fully on. All I’d done was complicate an already impossible situation. Would she blame me? Probably. Hell, part of me blamed myself, but honestly, what more could I have done?
“Hungry?” I asked. I had to get her out of here and into a more normal zone.
She stirred against me. My content kitten. “A little.”
How long had I waited to have her just where I’d wanted? How long after hearing the news would it take her to once again flee? And I’d have to let her. Holding on too tight would only send her skittering away.
“What sounds good?”
She kissed me, and framed my face with her hands, but then drew back, staring not just into my eyes, but my soul. “You were right.”
Huh? “About what?”
“That you’d have me begging. That was—well…” She moved her hands from my cheeks to hers. “Hot. And I want more—all of you. But first, I want a peanut butter sandwich. And milk. And maybe a scrambled egg.” She smiled, only it wasn’t her ordinary shy gesture, but a toothy, full-on sort of smile that lit her from the inside out. Suddenly, she was scrambling up from my lap, laughing and giggling, jogging the room’s tiered perimeter as if she were a little girl playing in the sun. “Oh—and I want popcorn and nachos and bacon and Skittles! Lots and lots of Skitt—”
She tripped up the stairs, and I ran to her, only when I got there, she was laughing again, only uncontrollably, eerily, and I pulled her against me, sensing all was not quite right with this scene. Her laughter morphed into tears. Ugly, wracking, cleansing tears that soaked my shirt.
I held her until she quieted. “What was that about?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but that was the first time I…since…I won’t say his name. But what you did was good—great. And I want to do it again, only all the way. Now. I don’t want to eat, I want to feel…” She worked her clever little fingers along my shirt, unfastening buttons and then pulling it open, kissing my chest, taking teasing bites at my nipples. She was everywhere, everything, and I needed to tell her, but then she lowered her hands to my waistband and we were reclining on the long half-stairs, and I was kicking off my boxers and jeans as we kissed.
I tried removing her vest, but she said, “No. Leave it on. This can’t wait. I can’t wait.”
Yeah, her request was strange. But God help me, I went with it.
I should have told her, but I lost all control. I’d waited for this moment literally since the day she’d found me that fancy mustard, and I couldn’t stop kissing her, nuzzling her neck, breathing her in. In the past, she’d smelled simple and clean, but now, having been reborn in my world, her scent was lush; I felt like I was being immersed in a sweet floral fantasy. I buried my face in her hair, just holding her, wanting to freeze-frame this moment when she’d finally let go.
I had to leave her long enough to fumble for my jeans, then my wallet. I found a condom, rolled it on, then said, “Straddle me. Our first time, I need you to know you’re in control.”
She offered me a shy smile, then followed my wishes. She was on her knees, and my cock stood at attention, reaching for her, but she wasn’t ready. Though almost.
I slid my hands up her dress, gliding up her smooth abdomen on my way to her breasts.
She grabbed my wrists. “No. Not there.”
Okay…
“Anywhere else. Everywhere.”
I should have stopped this runaway train then, but my cock was too hard for logic. I bucked my midsection higher, arching into her, kissing her deep while fingering her shallow. I wanted her not just begging for me, but desperate. Like I was.
She lowered her hips to meet me, and gasped when her clit got a good, hard rub.
With my free hand, I pushed her back up. “No fair cheating. You’ve made me wait months.” To punish her, I didn’t finger her at all, but cupped her mound, keeping it nice and warm while I kissed her belly and hips and finally, devastatingly, I rose high enough to kiss her lips. When she stroked my tongue with hers, I almost shot my load. Everything about her left me off balance and unsure, yet at this moment, never had I been more certain of the fact that I’d die if I wasn’t inside her soon.
I’d wanted to play games, to make this first time last for all time, but the feat proved beyond me. I needed her wet, so I held off long enough to finger her until she was once again coming, this time cryin
g out in pleasure, and then I kept my hands on her hips, easing her down and myself in, slow and steady. The whole way, I held her gaze, wanting to be sure this was also what she wanted. When she swallowed my length, I closed my eyes and groaned. The wait had been worth it. The chase. The frustration. All of it I’d do over again for just this mind-blowing sensation.
I set up a rhythm, pumping while going back for more leisurely kisses—at least that had been the plan. Taking her slow. But then my plan got all mixed up with need, and I found myself driving faster and harder. She lowered her hips, riding me thrust for thrust. Those slow kisses turned fast, frantic, fevered. Only after feeling her shuddered release did I give myself permission to lose control. I pumped and pumped and then stilled when the force of my release rocketed through. Light and heat and ragged sensation accosted me from all sides. It was too much, yet not enough. If pressed, I was good to go again, but knew I was a monster for even going that one round. I had to tell her. Now.
Still inside, I rested my cheek against her breasts and she brushed her fingers through my hair. “You’re so good for me.”
No, I’m not.
“Before meeting you, I thought my life was over. I never thought I’d do anything other than run. But now, everything’s changed. The two of us are connected, and Willow’s going to get better.” She giggled. “We could double date with her and Garrett.”
Tell her. “Ell…”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to hang out with you during your makeover.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I wanted to be there. You know, sharing in your fun.” Just thinking about what was next to come had me pulling out, then lifting her off of me to set her on the carpeted step. “Don’t move.” I scooped up my pants, heading for the small restroom just off the base of the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”
I disposed of the condom, took a piss and cleaned myself up. Then I returned, to find her on her hands and knees where this whole thing had started on the third row.
To prove what an ass I am, upon seeing her position, my brain jumped straight from the task at hand to doggy style. I cleared my throat. “What’re you doing?”
“Looking for my panties.”
Christ. That had me thinking of her taste…
“Leave ’em,” I said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” The movie had ended some time after we’d both come. The credits just now finished rolling. The room’s automated lights flicked on when the screen dimmed.
Ella sat back on her haunches, and the set of her lovely full mouth turned grim. “What’s wrong? Did I displease you?”
“Are you kidding me?” I drew her to her feet, wrapping her in my arms. “What we just shared was incredible. I want to christen every room in this house, but first, you have to know the reason why I wasn’t helping you try on all your new clothes.”
“I already told you it doesn’t matter.” She squirmed free, blasting me with another of her sensational new smiles. She took my hand. “What does matter is you feeding me. Then, let’s rock some sin onto your pure-as-driven-snow white sofa.”
The fact that she was even suggesting such a thing blew my mind. The fact that circumstance demanded I turn her down made me pout inside like a toddler who’d been sat in timeout. I groaned. “As good as that sounds, this is serious. I should’ve told you sooner, but…”
“If you’re ending things between us, I’ll—”
“Stop.” I took her hands in mine. “This has nothing to do with us.” I hoped. “You probably need to sit down.”
“You’re scaring me.” She did sit, then looked up, killing me with her big blue eyes. I hated myself for not telling her sooner. The thought of possibly losing her over something so out of my control was unfathomable. “Just get this over with.”
I forced a deep breath. “Yeah, I don’t know any nice way to put this, but Ell…” I took her left hand, giving her what I hoped came across as a comforting squeeze. “Willow’s dead.”
42
Ella
“Dead?” Liam was nodding, and then talking, but I couldn’t hear him above the ringing in my ears. His news hit me as if a grenade had shredded my heart. He couldn’t be serious. We’d seen her right before dinner. If I’d known her condition was in the least bit unstable, I never would have left with Liam, let alone…
Given him a hand job at Olive Garden?
Had him go down on me while I was standing up?
Fucked him on a flight of movie theater stairs?
While I’d reawakened my sexuality, my poor friend had lain dying. Alone.
This fact crushed me. All the more so, considering she wouldn’t have even been in California if it weren’t for me.
“I-I have to go,” I said, somehow leaving the chair.
“Where?” Liam asked.
“To the hospital.” Outside of the theater room, I started walking, but had no idea how to get to the front door. The home was too big, the layout a maze. Tears fell so fast I had trouble seeing where I was going. “I’m sure this is a mistake. We just saw her and she was fine.”
“Babe…” Liam caught up with me, snagging me around my waist. “I spoke with her doctor. She had an aneurysm. I was going to tell you, but you were having so much fun…”
“She’s dead and you were worried about me having fun? You’re sick.”
His expression changed from tender concern to anger. “I’m sick? For fucking caring about you? For wanting you to always wear the smile I’ve only just seen tonight? Oh yeah, I’m a real monster. The worst.” He stormed off.
I stood there taking it all in. I’d just spent the happiest few hours of my life in this house, with this man. To now hear such crushing news was too much. What was wrong with me that bad things kept happening? Why couldn’t I find happiness and hold on? The even bigger question was why was I standing here alone when Liam was only a room away? Why couldn’t I go to him? What held me back from welcoming his emotional support?
I don’t know.
I crumbled to the floor, sitting cross-legged, cradling my forehead in my hands.
Willow, dead? Impossible. I’d just seen her.
Liam strode down the hall. Once he reached me, he extended his hand. “Get up. I called my pilot and he’ll take you to Sausalito. One of my associates will meet you at the pad with your car.”
No. I didn’t want it—us—to be like this. I wanted to lean on him—to believe I could lean on him—but my own fears held me back. “Please, just drive me,” I said. “M-my friend just died. I need to see her.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t. The hospital released her body to the funeral home, and they’re readying her for transport to Rose Springs. That’s where her funeral’s being held. I’ve already talked to her family and will cover the cost. Because of the holiday, her funeral isn’t being held until Friday of next week at two p.m. I’ll fly out that morning if you and Nathan would care to accompany me to Rose Springs.” His speech sounded painfully formal, as if the words weren’t coming from him, but had been filtered through a bad sound system and delivered in the form of a canned PSA.
Who was this stranger in the room? “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Willow’s dead and all you can talk about are arrangements? What happened—not just tonight, but to have even landed her in a coma? Please, Liam, just help me understand. Sure, she smoked pot, but she never did any serious drugs. She could be flaky in some ways, but she also had a really sweet side. Every day, she drove me to work, and her wiener jokes always made me laugh…” I used the backs of my hands to swipe tears from my cheeks. I looked down to see my knuckles covered in base and mascara. All of my fancy makeup was gone. More than anything, I wanted him to hold me, to stroke my hair, reassuring me that despite this tragedy everything would be okay.
But poof. Just like Liam himself, our intimacy had been a dream. A dream that had now turned into a nightmare.
Only when I looked up, Liam was still
there.
He’d kept his promise that he wouldn’t leave me, but there was a difference between him wanting to be with me and staying by my side out of some twisted sense of obligation. By the change in his tone, by his desire to be rid of me so fast that he wished to dispose of me via helicopter, rather than drive me himself, I could tell that in a split second, that was what I had become. A burden he could no longer bear.
From outside came the muted wash of helicopter blades, slicing and churning the air, making it hard for me to breathe. Only, that was stupid, because clearly, the air in the house was just as perfect as the furniture and floors and walls. Just like everything Liam touched. Only the perfection was an illusion—a wafer-thin veil easily torn by reality’s shrapnel.
The walls shuddered from the helicopter’s drone.
Liam again extended his hand. “Get up. I’ll tell the pilot you no longer need his services, then drive you back to your apartment.”
His voice was so cold. He didn’t even look at me. How was this the same man who’d just made love to me? But then, had that even been real?
“Never mind,” I said. “I’ll fly.” Since he wouldn’t hold me, I’d rather be alone. A long drive would only prolong this torture.
“Sure?”
I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded. Instead of grasping his outstretched hand, I pushed myself up. My flowing dress felt silly. As if I’d donned it to play the role of a billionaire’s toy doll.
“I’ll have your things sent over.”
“That’s not necessary.” Those beautiful clothes were never really mine. What was happening? How had we shared our bodies and souls barely an hour earlier to now be strangers? I didn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand.
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