Control

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Ell…” Liam traced my collarbone. I shivered from the power of his simple touch. “What’re you hiding? You look perfect.”

  I sat up, in the process, tugging a pillow toward me to hold over my breasts. “That’s what Blaine wanted everyone to think. He wanted me perfect on the outside, but fucked up on the inside—where it counts.”

  “Babe, no…”

  My pulse hammered. What should I do? Try putting him off indefinitely? But what was the point? It wasn’t like the issue was going anywhere. If the two of us were to share any further intimacy, in a way, he had a right to know.

  “Ella…whatever you’re hiding can’t be that bad.” He tugged at my shirt. “Come on, let me see.”

  I left the bed. I needed that disconnect. The distance.

  I couldn’t have him near me, where I might be too close to accurately read his response.

  After dropping the pillow to the wood floor, I steadied my trembling hands by clenching my T-shirt’s hem. I can do this, I coached. And actually, if he blanched, that would be good. I’d know that the two of us were never meant to be, rather than finding it out sometime down the road.

  “Need me to help?” he asked from the bed’s edge.

  I shook my head. Dragging up the worn and faded cotton of my T-shirt and hoodie was no big deal. Neither was tugging it over my head. I stood before him in my utilitarian white cotton bra that I’d chosen for coverage as opposed to style and I raised my chin, daring him to belittle me. Inside, Blaine’s memory reduced me to quivering jelly. My heart was once again that of a caged bird. I lifted my hands to my back. My fingers were icy beneath the garment’s wide band. I unlatched one hook, and then two and three and four. While deciding whether to run or carry on, I held the sides together for the longest time.

  Liam’s emerald gaze never left mine. What was he thinking? Was what he imagined I was hiding better or worse than my actual scars?

  I forced a deep, shuddering breath, and then went for it. For the first time since being with my husband, I stood before a man with my breasts bared. Awaiting Liam’s reaction, time stood still. But then his eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted and I knew, knew, he found me as abhorrent as I found myself.

  Before he could speak, I fled, charging, nearly tripping down the curving stairs. I passed the fireplace at a dead run, and by the time I’d reached the home’s front entry, I could no longer process air through my tight lungs. Desperate for oxygen, out of my mind, I flung the door open and ran outside, covering my pendulous Frankenstein breasts with my hands.

  Cold rain struck my face with battering force. I didn’t care—was beyond caring.

  I had to escape, and so I ran and ran, but then Liam was there, like he always was, dragging me, spinning me around to face him. My hair covered my eyes and like a wild, captured animal, I thrashed against him.

  “Let me go!” I cried above the storm.

  He not only ignored me, but tossed me over his shoulder. I kicked and screamed and pounded my fists against his back the whole way inside.

  “Put me down!” I raged.

  He did, on the sofa in front of the still crackling fire. My cold, wet skin broke out in goose bumps and my teeth chattered. To further my mortification and shame, beneath my hands, my nipples hardened.

  He knelt beside me, stroking my hair back from my eyes. “My, beautiful, beautiful, Ell…” His tone held the heat from a thousand suns, and beneath his kindness, my runaway heart stilled. He clasped my wrists, inching my hands down, down, until once again my breasts, my shame, were bared.

  As he fully absorbed what Blaine had done, I witnessed tears form in Liam’s eyes. Silent tears fell, glistening in the firelight as he reached out with a feather-light touch to trace the savage outline of Blaine’s message.

  On the underbelly of my left breast, he’d used an X-Acto knife to carve: U R M

  On my right breast, he’d completed his message with: INE!

  U R MINE!

  I was too exhausted to run, to fight, so I lay there scared and alone and wondering what might next happen. I closed my eyes and awaited Liam’s inevitable rejection, but instead, I felt his warm lips against my cold skin. He kissed every letter, then tenderly held his hand over them while kissing, laving, and suckling my nipples. Despite what they looked like, the sensations in my breasts were all still there. His every nip and kiss tugged an invisible string of longing that formed instant heat between my legs.

  “My beautiful, Ell…” His voice cracked.

  I dared open my eyes to find his gaze still shining.

  The knot of gratitude blocking my throat was enormous; the thanks I owed his kindness was beyond measure. In that moment, I knew I loved him. Had always loved him from the moment we’d first met. I wanted to give voice to my realization, but couldn’t. It was too soon. What we shared, too fragile. For now, it was enough for me to carry my adoration for him in my heart.

  His kiss to my lips filled me with wild yearning.

  He raised himself up, pulling off his shirt and sweater with but a single motion. He tossed his garments aside, focusing on the button at the waistband of my jeans. Soon enough, he was easing them down, along with my cotton panties.

  “Beautiful…” he whispered, gazing down at the full length of my naked body.

  His single word intoxicated and bewitched me.

  He’d transported me to another world in which I’d never known anyone but him. Lying alongside me, with his mouth angled atop mine, his tongue sweeping my own, the coarse hairs on his chest brushing my hypersensitive nipples, he slid his hand low between my legs, fingering me to a place where we existed on a plane of achy, hungry, building pleasure. The higher he took me, the more I bucked my hips and groaned. He slipped his finger inside me, while still strumming my clit with his thumb.

  Dazed, eyes closed, heat from the fire licking my outsides while his touch ignited inner flames, I forgot where I left off and he began. When my orgasm struck, my throat was already raw from panting, but then Liam pushed himself inside, and I cried out in satisfaction.

  Fill me, thrill me. Transform me into the woman I’m destined to become.

  He pounded and I met him thrust for thrust. This time, when he slid his hand up to cup my breast, I let him, and instead of worrying about my disfigurement, focused on his pinch’s erotic spark.

  When I came, I cried out, holding onto him, digging my fingers into the taut skin of his back.

  Seconds later, he stiffened, and I felt his warmth inside. He hadn’t used a condom and strangely, I didn’t care. I was too consumed with Liam to worry about anything other than when we’d next make love. And for the first time in my life, I knew that was what this experience had been—truly, making love.

  47

  Liam

  “Rise and shine, working girl.” I set the breakfast tray on the nightstand, then kissed my Ella awake. I hated that she insisted on keeping her job, but if that was what she had her heart set on, I wouldn’t stand in her way. Maybe I’d even buy a place in Sausalito and she could have a shop of her own? “I made you scrambled eggs and toast and tried making pancakes, but that didn’t go so well, so I brought you blueberries and an oatmeal muffin for something sweet.”

  Her sexy groan had my cock once again springing to attention. “I don’t want to wake up.”

  “Want me to call in sick for you?” Hint, hint.

  “No…” She pushed herself up in the bed, in the process, tumbling her long hair over her left shoulder. She wore one of my old college T-shirts and nothing else. Knowing how little fabric stood between me and having her didn’t help my resolve to encourage her to be on time for her job. “We’ll probably have deliveries today, so I need to be there to help Yvonne. Speaking of which…” She eyed the bedside clock. “If it’s already eight, does that mean you’re flying me to work?”

  “Not me, personally, but my pilot.” I set her meal on her lap. “Eat.”

  “Yes, sir.” She tried holding a stern expression, but her s
mile peeked through. God, she was a beauty. I couldn’t get enough of her. But I didn’t just want her in my bed, but everywhere. I wanted her at my side during business trips and to show her off at boring charity dinners. I wanted to drape her in jewels and hire the best plastic surgeons in the world to repair the damage her ex had done. If I ever saw the bastard, I feared strangling him, so it was best we stayed over half a continent away.

  “Mmm,” she said after her first bite of the eggs I’d sprinkled cheese atop. “These are—” Fingers to her mouth, she pulled out a piece of eggshell, then grinned. “They’re very good—all the more so, because I’m assuming you made them?”

  “Guilty. I thought there might’ve been a few pieces that got away.” Damn. I’d wanted everything perfect. And I’d been right about her eyes matching blueberries.

  “Don’t worry about it.” After swallowing a shell-free bite, she asked, “Are you flying with me?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got meetings all afternoon. But I want to see you tonight.”

  She’d been nibbling her muffin, but stopped. “I was going to hang with Nathan tonight. The last time we talked was kind of rough, and I wanted to smooth things over before the funeral. It’s still cool if he goes with us, right?”

  Christ…I knew the Good Guy thing to say was a more politically correct version of, Sure, babe, I’d love it if your stoner wannabe-boyfriend tags along, mooning at you and scowling at me. Sounds like a great time. The truth was that I’d claimed her and wasn’t in the mood for sharing.

  “Liam?” She finished her OJ. “You’re cool with it, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you. It’s really nice of you to have offered to let him come along.”

  I know. Never in a million years had I thought he’d take me up on that offer. Where was the kid’s pride? “You’re welcome.”

  “This is so good.” Ella devoured her meal as if she’d never eaten.

  Meanwhile, my stomach churned. Just when I thought we’d gotten closer, Nathan wedged his way between us. I knew their apartment was a one-bedroom. Did he sleep on the sofa or did they share the lone bed? My old insecurities held me in a choke hold, and even though I knew I was being irrational in worrying about Ella choosing him over me, the concern was still real. And I was sick of it. Once and for all, I wanted her to be mine in every sense of the word. But to do that would change everything. I’d based my entire adult social game on one simple principle—leave women before they left me. Was I ready to declare Ella the one? Hell, no. I had no interest in ever marrying, but I needed her off the market for any other man.

  “What’s got you so serious?” she asked. I glanced her way to find her bathed in morning sun, strands of copper and gold glowing in her hair. Primal want tugged at my groin. She was stunning. I wanted her to be mine. Last night’s storm had passed and while so much was now clear, still more hung like dark, rumbling clouds in my mind.

  “Business. No big deal.”

  “Want some of this?” she asked with a pretty smile, offering me the last few bites of her meal.

  I shook my head. “We should probably get going.”

  She finished and set her tray aside. “Since you cooked, I’ll wash the dishes, then get dressed.”

  “Leave everything. Penny will be by later.”

  “That’s rude.” She eased her shapely legs out from under the covers. Had it really been only a few hours since she’d wrapped them around me while I was inside her? “We made the mess. We should clean it.”

  I sighed. “Harold and Penny get paid well to clean it. If we didn’t make a mess for them, they wouldn’t get to live rent free in my caretaker’s cabin.”

  “Guess I never thought about it like that.” At times, she seemed impossibly young and naive. Other times, she was a wise old soul. She drew her full lower lip into her mouth. I fought the urge to bite it. “I’ll get dressed.”

  There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the right words. I wanted to talk about things that were important. The future. Whether or not we’d even have a future and if so, what were the parameters? She’d made it plain that she wasn’t a fan of contracts, but didn’t she find it important to protect herself? Especially after she’d obviously gotten nothing from her dick of a husband—who I planned to take down. Then there was the matter of our unprotected sex. What the hell had I been thinking? Considering my past, bringing a child into this fucked-up world where a man took a carving knife to his wife was out of the question. If Ella were to get pregnant with a baby girl, worry would have me never sleeping again.

  She emerged from the bathroom wearing her uniform of a T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. Was it wrong that I wanted to see her in at least one of the outfits I’d bought?

  On her tiptoes, she kissed me. “Smile. People will wonder what you’ve been up to.”

  Just like that, her simple touch channeled my concerns like water flowing down a drain. For now, only one thing mattered—keeping her happy enough to want to stay with me until an at least semi-permanent solution could be arranged. “Have plans for New Year’s?”

  She sat on the foot of the bed, tying her ratty sneaker. “With Willow, and then, well, us…” Her cheeks reddened. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

  “Carol texted me while I was cooking, reminding me that I purchased a table for some big charity thing.”

  “What’s the cause?” She finished tying one shoe to start on the other.

  “Don’t have a clue, but there should be good champagne and Seal and Sting are playing.”

  “Wait—Seal who was married to Heidi? And, Sting, as in The Police?” Her eyes widened.

  I loved that even little things excited her. I loved that she made everything feel new.

  “Yeah. Like him?”

  “Love him. In high school, I went through this major retro phase and listened to ‘Roxanne’ and ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’ on constant repeat for a month.”

  “What phase came after that?”

  She cringed. “Boy bands. But we’re not talking about that.”

  I laughed. “Agreed. So it’s a date?”

  After hugging me, she said, “Yes—only, what should I wear?”

  “Let me handle it. I’m assuming you’ll still need to work till six that night?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. Maybe.”

  God, I hated her job. “Okay, well, when you find out, let me know.”

  She was back to worrying her lip. “How?”

  Christ…Not this again. “I’m having your phone delivered to the shop.”

  She opened her mouth, presumably to protest, but I put my index finger over her lips. “Not being able to reach you is unacceptable.”

  “Okay, but does that work both ways? The last time I had a phone, you never answered

  yours.” Hands on her hips, chin raised, she’d made a valid point.

  “Fair enough.” I raised my right hand. “I, Liam Stone, solemnly swear to answer all calls and texts from Ms. Ella Patton. Amen.”

  Ella rolled her eyes. “All I can say is you’d better answer, or else…”

  I laughed, wishing the heli’s drone couldn’t already be heard. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She made me want to skip work and spend the day, my life, with her. I was no longer confused about her, as I had been when I’d taken off for Australia. I was happy. I had no right to be. The responsibility for Willow’s death should have bored down on my conscience, but it didn’t. Did that make me an awful person? Probably. I didn’t care. The only thing—person—I did care about was her—Ella. My sweet, beautiful, funny, opinionated Ella.

  I wasn’t sure how, but I was determined to keep her—maybe not forever, but at least, for a very long time.

  48

  Julie

  “Is it your young man who’s got you so happy?” Yvonne asked me that evening from behind the checkout stand, where she stood tallying up the day’s receipts. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you hum.”

 
I stood on a ladder, dusting the angel on a fairy-themed tree.

  Wolfie stared up at me expectantly, as if I might have a treat.

  I’d been humming? I grinned in her direction. “I guess I am happy, but kind of scared, too. Last night was so perfect. I want every night to be like that, you know?”

  “I remember those days. Nothing feels as good as that initial stage of a relationship when everything feels shiny and new.”

  “Guess where he’s taking me for New Year’s!”

  “Paris?” Yvonne stapled her latest pile. Over lunch, I’d opened up to her about Liam’s identity, and how all of his money sometimes felt like a blessing, but more often, a curse. I loved the freedom it entailed, but at what cost? Was his affection for me genuine? Or because he couldn’t own me, had that made him want me all the more? Now that we were growing closer, would he lose interest?

  “Nothing that grand,” I said. “We’re going to a fancy party at some big hotel—I don’t remember the name—but Seal and Sting are the main musical acts.”

  “From The Police?” Yvonne held her hands over her heart. “I used to have biggest crush on that man.”

  I laughed. “Me, too.”

  “What’re you wearing?”

  “I don’t know. Liam’s picking something out.”

  “How romantic. New Year’s Eve is tomorrow night, right?”

  I nodded.

  “You must take off early, so you have time to look extra special—oh, and I want pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.”

  I climbed down from the ladder to give her a hug.

  Wolfie barked.

  “I’ll not only take pictures,” I said, “but want me to see if I can sneak out some fancy dessert?” Yvonne had a wicked sweet tooth.

  “If it’s not too much trouble. Most of all, I want you to have fun.”

  —

  “Hi,” I said to Nathan thirty minutes later.

  He sat at the kitchen table eating SpaghettiO’s from the can. “You’re the last person I expected to see.”