His Package

by Bloom, Penelope

  “You can always apologize for not snuffing your sister out when you still had the chance. Accidentally let her get lost in the woods on a family trip, that sort of thing.”

  “You’re horrible. But for some reason, I still like you.”

  “You like me, huh?”

  He flashed something between a smile and a frown. “You’re just figuring this out?”

  “No. I just like hearing you say it.”

  “Lilith. We don’t have to even think about my sister. She did her worst already. She tried to screw things up with us, and she failed. Move in with me. Come live in my real apartment. You can even bring your weird cat.”

  “Roosevelt isn’t weird, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not yet. You said she has done her worst, but I don’t think she has. Something tells me you never had to deal with bullies, but I have. They don’t usually give up unless you punch back. Hunkering down and hoping it goes away usually makes it worse. Think about it. What have you done since your sister started waging this war against you? Changed your identity? Tried to lay low? You need to grow a pair and kick her back where it hurts. Punch first before she can punch harder.”

  “Hey,” he said. “The choices I made weren’t because I was afraid. I didn’t want to waste my time with her and her games. I thought the fastest way to get it all over with would be to ignore it. But don’t think for a second that I’m not willing to do something. I just don’t think we have to anymore. She has to see that she lost. Didn’t you see the way she looked at you?”

  “Yeah, like I was a new wrinkle in an ongoing plan. She’s not done, trust me.”

  “So what are you thinking? How do we get her to stop?”

  “You said she’s married, right?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s our answer. Either she’s actually in love with the man, or she’s sticking with him for the money. One way or another, she wants it to stay the way it is. So we hit her where it hurts. We find a way to expose her.”

  “Is it bad that I’m more interested in getting you exposed?”

  “Yes,” I said, but I couldn’t completely stop myself from smiling. “You’re bad. And I’ve reconsidered. I’ll stay in your apartment. Temporarily. But Roosevelt needs his own space. That’s my condition.”

  “He can have his own room.”

  “Ugh. I forgot how disgustingly rich you are.”

  As it turned out, disgustingly rich was an understatement.

  Liam’s apartment was a hollowed out section of a skyscraper downtown. We entered through a luxury hotel lobby, rode up sixty floors, and exited into his “penthouse suite.” I’d come to think of penthouses as being the top-most floor of a building, but his was more like the top four floors combined into one massive living space.

  “How does this even work?” I asked. We stepped out of the elevator and I had to do a slow, rotating spin to take everything in. Sweeping views of downtown New York in every direction, with only a handful of buildings tall enough to stand above us. Deep, gold-veined marble floors stretched in every direction, but were made less cold and severe by splashes of plush, white and gray fabrics draped over modern furniture or splayed out as rugs. “Is this like a hotel room you rent indefinitely?”

  “Not exactly. The original owner of the hotel sold the top floors to his billionaire friend forty years back. When his friend moved, it became available for purchase, and I snagged it. But I do still get room service if I want, so there’s that.”

  I paused beside his coffee table, where what looked like a solid bar of gold the size of my hand was simply sitting in plain view. I tried to pick it up, but it was either glued in place or far heavier than it looked.

  “What’s with this?” I asked, grunting with the effort of picking it up. I was about to give up and assume it was stuck in place when I finally got my fingers under the lip and pried it up into the air. It felt like it weighed five pounds, even though it was the size of a deck of cards.

  “Gold,” he said.

  I scrunched up my face at him. “Seriously? Was there a point where you got so much money that you were just like, ‘oh, I know what the perfect decoration for this table would be. Solid gold’?”

  “Actually, no,” he said, gently taking it from my hand and studying the metal. “I got it when I was feeling a little dramatic. I thought it was a good symbol, I guess.”

  “A symbol for what? How loaded you are?”

  “No.” He met my eyes and then looked away, flashing a rare moment of vulnerability. “Forget it.” He lobbed the gold to his couch like it was a useless paperweight and not worth more than most people’s houses.

  “I don’t want to forget it. You were about to give me some backstory. I could feel it. I need to know, especially now that you’re trying to get out of telling me. Think about it. You practically know everything about me. But what do I really know about you?”

  “You know plenty.”

  “I know your step-sister has a lady boner for you and I know you’re rich. That’s about it.”

  “I’m hurt. What about my charming personality?”

  “Okay. I know you aren’t the biggest ass I’ve ever met.”

  He considered my words, then nodded with a purse of his lips. “I’ll take it.”

  “You will. And you’re going to tell me the story on that.” I emphasized my point by jabbing my finger at the gold bar.

  Liam sank down onto the couch and palmed the metal again, looking at it while he spoke. “It’s really not a big deal. I just… I was thinking about where I was. In life,” he said a little quietly, like it was physically painful for him to be talking this deeply about his feelings. “I decided I’d been wasting my life. All I cared about was work, making more money, finding more success. I was tired of letting good things go by.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude here, but I don’t get how any of this has to do with you having a solid gold bar on your coffee table.”

  “Well, I was a little drunk. And I bought it a few days ago.”

  “Oh. The way you were talking, I thought this was some big life crisis you’d had a few years ago. You’re talking about just a few days ago?”

  “Yeah. When I met you. Drunken me thought it made perfect sense. I could leave behind the old me and this would be my little trophy to remember what good all the money got me.” He hefted the gold bar and chuckled. “I told you it was dumb.”

  “Not dumb. Maybe a little melodramatic. But I get it. You’re using it like a paperweight, so drunken Liam was saying money wasn’t really good for much? While not drunken Liam lives in a massive, multi-million dollar penthouse?”

  He bit his lip. “I’ll give you that one. But let me have my brooding symbolism, won’t you?”

  “You know,” I said suddenly, holding up my finger. “I think we need to clear the air on where we stand, because if we’re talking high school rules here, oral sex and well... penis sex all kind of implies a relationship. You don’t have to do the formal asking out of… the other person, but I also feel like I don’t even know if I’m allowed to call you my boyfriend.”

  He was grinning at me with raised eyebrows as he stood and took my hands. “Lilith… Will you be my girlfriend?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But only if you let me hold that gold bar again. I felt like an evil super villain with it in my hands.”

  “I could get you some more gold. Maybe gold coins? We could fill a kiddie pool with them and you could swim around in it. If it’s what my girlfriend wants, that is.”

  “Right now, what your girlfriend really wants is to satisfy this revenge boner I have for your sister. If we don’t take care of it soon, I’m going to get the revenge equivalent of blue balls. Red balls?”

  “How about the one where you don’t have balls. Or a raging erection. I think I like your parts as they are.”

  “You think?” I asked, throwing my shoulders back and ramming him with my boobs.

  He stumbled back, but the smile he wore was the
dangerous kind, not the humorous kind. His hand was already snaking around behind my back, searching for a shortcut into my dress and finding the zipper at the back. “My memory is fuzzy lately. But you could always refresh it.”

  “What about all the windows up here? I don’t want some random dude on the street asking me about the mole on my right butt cheek tomorrow.

  “There’s a mole on your right butt cheek?” Liam asked.

  “Possibly. I could show you if you forget about your stupid thing where you thought I’d get on my knees and beg to give you a blowjob.”

  “I had forgotten about that,” he said, slapping his forehead with his palm. “How nice of you to remind me. No. I think I’ll still take my begging on the knees, and that mole on your ass. Maybe I’ll bite it.”

  “Definitely not begging,” I said.

  “So you’ll get on your knees for me?”

  “No.” I crossed my arms and gave him my best glare. “Why are you looking at me like that? I don’t like that look…”

  He put a hand on my back, and in a blurring series of movement, I felt a quick jolt of pressure at the back of my knees, bending them involuntarily forward. Instead of my knees banging to the floor, he caught my shoulders and sat me gently down.

  Liam cleared his throat. “Glad you changed your mind.”

  “What the hell was that? Kung fu?”

  “Judo, actually.”

  “Okay. Pause. You know Judo?”

  “A man has to have a hobby.”

  “I’ll make you a new deal. If you teach me how to do that, I’ll do anything you want.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  18

  Liam

  I usually left schmoozing potential clients at snooty parties to Price, but I wasn't about to pass the opportunity to distract Lilith from her quest to satisfy her "revenge boner" against Celia. I almost hated to admit it, but I was having trouble summoning up the desire to focus on Celia in any capacity. It finally felt like nothing was standing between Lilith and I. Deep down, I knew Lilith was probably right about Celia; my step-sister wasn't going to accept that she had lost without a last-ditch effort to sabotage. And yet, to me, Celia felt like an unimportant speed bump standing between Lilith and I. I would've been happy to slow down, roll over her, and leave her in the rearview.

  Lilith, on the other hand, wanted to get out of the car with a sledgehammer and some dynamite to blow the speed bump clear out of the pavement. But that was her style, and it was part of her charm. She was an odd balance of girliness and commando. Her childhood had done a real number on her, and since we'd met, I felt like I was watching her break away from her past moment by moment. I enjoyed it, and I was excited to see how far she could really take her transformation.

  She stood beside me in a sleek green dress that glimmered like fish scales. It had a deep, open back that I kept feeling my eyes wander to. I drank in the subtle crease of muscle traveling down her spine and fading away to the soft skin above her ass, knowing that I could effortlessly slide my hand under the fabric to steal a handful if I wanted.

  I controlled myself. I knew I could have her again soon. It had been nearly a week since our little judo lesson, which had led to a blowjob lesson. Watching her admit it was her first time when her fingers were wrapped around me and her lips were inches from the head of my cock might have been the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. To be honest, I couldn’t have known it was her first time, but I may have been guilty of dragging it out by giving her new techniques to try. She was a fast learner, and as it turned out, she was eager to get in practice as often as she could.

  One of my goals was to make sure that box of her sex toys she’d brought along with her stuff when she “temporarily” moved in with me stayed taped shut. I didn’t want to share her, not even with a sex toy. I was also taking quiet pleasure in the fact that she kept bringing more “temporary” boxes over every day, and those boxes had a tendency to end up opened and unpacked.

  Price, for once, was fully buttoned up in a tux.

  I reached out and plucked at his collar. “Did your grandma dress you today?” I asked

  “Believe it or not,” he said, flicking my hand away like I was a fly. “I am actually good at my job, and I did my research. There’s a big fish here today, and sloppy dressers are one of his pet peeves. So.”

  “So you finally admit your style is sloppy and not fashionable?”

  “No. I just know that somebody so close-minded wouldn’t appreciate my style anyway.” Price looked to Lilith, who had wandered toward a table full of food and drinks. “How’s it going with her, by the way?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Come on. I’ve caught you smiling at least ten times in the last week. I even heard you whistling in your office once. Admit it. It’s more than fine.”

  I shrugged. “I think I love her.”

  Price did a double take, bulging his eyes at me. “Love?”

  “She’s all I think about. I don’t even care about getting back at Celia anymore.”

  Price shook his head. “Of course she’s all you’re thinking about. It’s like Romeo and Juliet, man. Why do you think all the tragic romances are about people who barely spent any time together? You think Romeo would’ve killed himself if he’d lived with Juliet long enough to realize she can’t clean up her fucking socks off the bathroom floor? Or that she gets crazy gassy after she eats Mexican? Come on. It’s up here,” he said, tapping my head. “It’s biology playing tricks on you. All your body wants is for you to put a baby in her, pass on your genes, and then boom. The magic chemicals turn off and you’ll realize love is just an illusion.”

  “Or,” I said. “You’re a cynical dick and you don’t know anything about love because you’ve never been in a serious relationship.”

  “Define serious.”

  “Something that lasts more than a month.”

  He looked like he was about to say I was wrong, and then frowned. "You don't need first-hand experience to see it, Liam. Think about it. What happens when you run out of stuff to talk about, or when the sex isn't as fun anymore? You really want to lock yourself into one woman for the rest of your life based on a week or two of knowing her?"

  “I didn’t say I was going to marry her, but I was thinking about it.”

  He closed his eyes and put his fingertips to his forehead. “You’re pussy sick. That’s all this is. It will pass, but I need you to promise you won’t tell her you ‘love’ her yet. Once you do that, you’re going to set a dangerous chain of events into play, and I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull you out of it.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but I think I can handle myself. I know how I feel. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Just a few seconds ago you said you think you love her. Now you’re talking like it’s certain.”

  “I made up my mind since then.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “Does Kade know? One of us should tell him. It’s going to break the poor little guy’s heart.”

  Kade popped into the conversation, somehow managing to surprise me, even though it wasn’t usually hard to track his huge body. “I already know, Price. Liam told me when we got here. Guess that means I’m his best friend.”

  Price scoffed. “He only told you first because he knew you were too simple-minded to call him out for being an idiot.”

  “Simple-minded?” Kade asked. “Who do you think wrote the code for the ‘genius’ software you can never stop raving about to our clients, and—”

  I wandered away to let the two of them bicker. The real reason neither of them had ever been in a serious relationship was probably that they ended up arguing with each other at almost every opportunity.

  Lilith was watching something with a wide, eager expression I hadn’t ever seen on her face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I moved in beside her.

  “That woman. She has toilet paper stuck to her heel, and she just got done telling off a waiter for offeri
ng her wine because she’s pregnant, even though she’s obviously not showing. See how people are starting to notice the toilet paper but nobody’s saying anything?”

  I watched the woman saunter her way through the room with half-lidded, confident eyes. Behind her, an occasional head would turn. It seemed relatively uneventful, but Lilith looked enthralled. “I’m surprised nobody’s telling her.”

  “I’m not. I see stuff like this all the time. People hardly ever say anything, unless it’s a close friend. Regular people just like to watch and point it out to their friends.”

  I grinned. “Kind of messed up. But if you ever have toilet paper stuck to your shoe, I’ll tell you right away.”

  “Not necessary. Getting toilet paper stuck to your shoe is a mystery I’ve never quite figured out. I mean, what are people doing in bathrooms where they’re stepping on toilet paper? Aren’t they watching where they walk in public restrooms in the first place? I’ve seen enough rogue turds on the ground in sketchy bathrooms that my eyes are pretty much locked on the floor.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  “What?” she asked. “You’re looking at me funny.”

  I nodded past her. “Not at you,” I said quietly. “She’s here.”

  “Oh shit.” Lilith hissed.

  We’d worked out the plan over the past week, and Celia’s arrival was phase one. I grabbed a shrimp from the assortment of food on the nearby table and launched it at Price. It ricocheted off his forehead. His head tipped back comically, like he’d just been shot between the eyes. He looked at me with an I’m about to murder you scowl.

  “Celia,” I mouthed, jerking my head toward her.

  He shushed Kade and then hurried off into the crowd. Price promised he knew a guy who could "sell a speedo to an Eskimo." We just needed this guy to sell a story to Celia, which might be harder.

  He came back a few seconds later with a well-dressed man a little older than me. He was good-looking, and gave me a knowing wink as he walked toward Celia.