here.”
He leans in, one hand on the wall by my face his big body close but
still not touching me.
Why do I need him to touch me this badly? “Then I need to be here
tonight,” he declares. “ We will be here tonight.”
We. I know the word really means nothing. This is a night. That’s
what I want. He’s made it clear that is what he wants. But I like the idea of
being “we” right now. And I desperately want to get back to forgetting
everything but him. I push to my toes and press my lips to his.
His arm wraps my waist again and he pulls me close, his body a
warm, welcome shelter from the nightmare I’ve left outside this door. “I’m
not going anywhere you aren’t tonight,” he promises.
Tonight. It’s enough. It has to be enough. It will be enough. “Good. I
don’t want you to.”
I’ve barely said the words, when he turns me to face the door. “What
are you doing?” I demand, catching my weight on the door with my palms.
He steps closer, his hips framing mine, the thick ridge of his erection
pressed to my backside. “Preparing you.”
“Preparing me?” I gasp. “What does that mean?”
He tugs my jacket down my shoulders and I expect him to pull it free,
but instead he tangles it around my arms and turns me around to face him.
“You can free your hands, but don’t.”
“No. No.” I knew he’d ask for too much. I knew. “I can’t do this. I
can’t—”
He cups my cheeks. “Deep breath, baby. I know you’re on unfamiliar
ground and I know you barely know me, but I’m just going to make you
come. Pure pleasure, nothing more. I know when things feel out of control
you think you need control. But sometimes, having a safe place to give it
away is the best way to block everything else out. I’m asking you to let me
show you I’m that safe place.”
But he’ll be gone tomorrow and where will I be? What place will my
mind have traveled, and will I get back to where I was before? “Do you ever
give away control?”
“No. That’s not what works for me.”
“But you think it will work for me.” It’s not a question. It’s clear what
he thinks. I just want…more. More understanding. More…him.
“It will work for you. Let me teach you, Amy.”
Teach me. This is what he’d been talking about on the plane and this
is so far into new territory, I don’t know which direction to go. I crave what
he will show me but I fear what I will show him.
“Do you have things you need to block out, Liam?” I ask, and I am on
tenterhooks, waiting on an answer that feels important to me, when I do
not even know what I expect—or want—it to be.
“Yeah, baby,” he surprises me by saying, “I do. Knowing you need the
escape and admitting it, if only to yourself, is control.” I am shocked by his
admission, by his willingness to share something so personal with me. I am
beyond aroused by this man and when his finger traces the skin at the top
of my blouse, I feel the touch in every part of my body. “I did.” He starts
unbuttoning my blouse. “And now I’m going to show you how we escape
together.”
Together. I like how that sounds, but…
“Right here in the hallway?” I ask, and my blouse begins to gape,
exposing the thin lace covering my breasts.
“Right here in the hallway,” he agrees, his hot gaze raking the swell
of my breasts, his deft fingers finishing the buttons and quickly popping
open the front clasp of my bra. He covers my breasts with his hands, and
nuzzles my neck at the same time, and the mix of erotic and tender ignites
my senses and soothes my nerves. “You smell like sunflowers.”
“My perfume,” I whisper, and unbidden, my mind my goes to New
York, to my apartment where it, and everything else I own, and no longer
have, are located.
“It’s perfect,” he approves, tugging my nipples, and the unexpected,
bittersweet ache leaves room for none of the burn for what is behind me.
There is only the burn for
He leans in, one hand on the wall by my face his big body close but
still not touching me.
Why do I need him to touch me this badly? “Then I need to be here
tonight,” he declares. “ We will be here tonight.”
We. I know the word really means nothing. This is a night. That’s
what I want. He’s made it clear that is what he wants. But I like the idea of
being “we” right now. And I desperately want to get back to forgetting
everything but him. I push to my toes and press my lips to his.
His arm wraps my waist again and he pulls me close, his body a
warm, welcome shelter from the nightmare I’ve left outside this door. “I’m
not going anywhere you aren’t tonight,” he promises.
Tonight. It’s enough. It has to be enough. It will be enough. “Good. I
don’t want you to.”
I’ve barely said the words, when he turns me to face the door. “What
are you doing?” I demand, catching my weight on the door with my palms.
He steps closer, his hips framing mine, the thick ridge of his erection
pressed to my backside. “Preparing you.”
“Preparing me?” I gasp. “What does that mean?”
He tugs my jacket down my shoulders and I expect him to pull it free,
but instead he tangles it around my arms and turns me around to face him.
“You can free your hands, but don’t.”
“No. No.” I knew he’d ask for too much. I knew. “I can’t do this. I
can’t—”
He cups my cheeks. “Deep breath, baby. I know you’re on unfamiliar
ground and I know you barely know me, but I’m just going to make you
come. Pure pleasure, nothing more. I know when things feel out of control
you think you need control. But sometimes, having a safe place to give it
away is the best way to block everything else out. I’m asking you to let me
show you I’m that safe place.”
But he’ll be gone tomorrow and where will I be? What place will my
mind have traveled, and will I get back to where I was before? “Do you ever
give away control?”
“No. That’s not what works for me.”
“But you think it will work for me.” It’s not a question. It’s clear what
he thinks. I just want…more. More understanding. More…him.
“It will work for you. Let me teach you, Amy.”
Teach me. This is what he’d been talking about on the plane and this
is so far into new territory, I don’t know which direction to go. I crave what
he will show me but I fear what I will show him.
“Do you have things you need to block out, Liam?” I ask, and I am on
tenterhooks, waiting on an answer that feels important to me, when I do
not even know what I expect—or want—it to be.
“Yeah, baby,” he surprises me by saying, “I do. Knowing you need the
escape and admitting it, if only to yourself, is control.” I am shocked by his
admission, by his willingness to share something so personal with me. I am
beyond aroused by this man and when his finger traces the skin at the top
of my blouse, I feel the touch in every part of my body. “I did.” He starts
unbuttoning my blouse. “And now I’m going to show you how we escape
together.”
Together. I like how that sounds, but…
“Right here in the hallway?” I ask, and my blouse begins to gape,
exposing the thin lace covering my breasts.
“Right here in the hallway,” he agrees, his hot gaze raking the swell
of my breasts, his deft fingers finishing the buttons and quickly popping
open the front clasp of my bra. He covers my breasts with his hands, and
nuzzles my neck at the same time, and the mix of erotic and tender ignites
my senses and soothes my nerves. “You smell like sunflowers.”
“My perfume,” I whisper, and unbidden, my mind my goes to New
York, to my apartment where it, and everything else I own, and no longer
have, are located.
“It’s perfect,” he approves, tugging my nipples, and the unexpected,
bittersweet ache leaves room for none of the burn for what is behind me.
There is only the burn for
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