“I can’t tell you all the details. Ever since the day I was snatched, I don’t react well to people sneaking up on me or grabbing me from behind. It triggers something, and I’m catapulted back to that day.” His usually smooth voice sounds choppy.
Liam lifts his shirt, exposing another tattoo. It looks like it connects to the body of armor I saw on his arm, but that’s not what captures my attention. As I look closer, like Karl, he’s covering scarring. My hand raises to touch him, but I stop myself. He reaches out, taking hold of my hand and gently bringing it to the raised flesh.
I want to cry for him. I want to rage for them both. I feel the tears before I know I’m crying. My heart breaks even more for what they both had to endure. The unspeakable things Karl went through and the undeniable guilt Liam carries around for what happened to his best friend.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I croak.
Liam raises his other hand to my face, brushing away the free-flowing stream of tears leaking from my eyes. “Shh, it wasn’t your fault,” he whispers, cupping my cheek, and I lean into his palm, soaking in the heat of his comfort.
Isn’t it, though? Isn’t all of this my fault? I’m a Bradford. The one my evil mother has been working to place at the helm so she can take over.
“Stop,” he grabs my chin, letting go of the hand touching his side, and lifts my gaze to his, “I can see it on your face that you’re blaming yourself. You didn’t do this.
Elise did it.”
I try to accept his comfort, but then I replay his words,
‘someone grabbed me from behind.’
My mind reels. I did that. The day in the hallway, when he turned away. I gripped his shoulder and pulled.
“The day in the hall. You-you were having a flashback, weren’t you? And I triggered it, didn’t I?” I mumble between breaths. I can feel my body trying to lock me out as I feel the anxiety building in my chest and my airways constricting.
My heart is ricocheting out of my body as lips press against mine, pulling me from my mounting panic. I gasp, permitting his tongue to find mine. My hands begin to glide up his stomach, and he stiffens, causing me to halt my perusal. I start to pull away, but his hand grips the back of my neck, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine.
“Please,” he begs between kisses, urging me to touch him.
Encouraged by his plea, I slide my palm to his chest, holding my hand against his warm skin, feeling the skittering of his heart beating. He groans, a noise between a moan and a cry. I can feel the tears building before they fall, the saltiness mixing between our joint lips. Neither one of us is deterred. Instead, our hunger for one another becomes more ravenous. My hands move to his hair, yanking it from its bun and tugging him deeper as our tongues delve into each other’s mouths, exploring, searching… yearning for more.
“Well, this isn’t what I had in mind when you said ‘preparing for our presentation on women’s suffrage’,” August’s voice shocks us apart.
Both our heavy breaths are audible when I turn to see the shit-eating grin on August’s face.
“Fuck off, Grant,” Liam says, but his tone is light and filled with amusement before he leans in and kisses my swollen lips. “Next time, there won’t be any interruptions,” he whispers loud enough that only I can hear.
The promise in his voice makes my pussy clench as I remember our date is this weekend.
“Let’s get to work,” I blurt out, trying to cover my nervous excitement about what his words mean.
LIAM
I look around the kitchen, ensuring all the ingredients are ready while I wait for Emma to arrive. Thomas agreed to drive her over so I could start the prep work. I put the dough to rest and begin to work on cutting the tops off the strawberries in order to hollow them out. I don’t want to make anything too elaborate tonight so that we can focus on getting to know each other more.
I grab the cheesecake filling I made earlier from the cooler and the piping bag once the strawberries have been hollowed. Then I work to fill each berry before placing them on a parchment paper-covered cookie sheet. Once they’re filled, I place them back into the cooler until it’s time for Emma and me to make them.
Closing the door to the cooler, I turn to survey the kitchen- everything is ready. I walk to the pantry to grab the apron I had made for her, hoping she’ll enjoy my sense of humor. After the other day, things between us have finally lost their tension-at least the tension that had her annoyed with me. The sexual type, on the other hand-. I don’t finish my thought because just as I place the apron on the table, Geoffrey announces her arrival.
I take one more cursory glance around the room and make my way to the entrance to greet her.
By the time I reach the door, she’s standing inside the entryway, and I come to a complete stop. My mouth falls open as I take her in. She’s wearing high-waisted, distressed black denim jeans that accentuate her curves and an off-the-shoulder Nirvana hoodie. Her long bluish-black hair falls in waves down past her shoulders.
Damn. She’s fucking gorgeous.
“Hey,” she smiles, alerting me to the fact that I’ve just been staring at her like an idiot without saying a word.
I look into her alluring eyes. I’d give anything to know what’s going on in that head of hers. Is she seeing how much I really want her- want this? Does she notice how sorry I am for my dickish behavior when I first met her?
“Hi,” I finally respond. Because I’m a man of many words.
We stand there momentarily just looking at each other before my brain gets the memo. It’s my house. I need to be the one to get this date started.
Clearing my throat, I try to actually formulate a sentence that’s not monosyllabic. “Um. Let’s go to the kitchen. I thought we could make dinner together.”
Way to sound confident there, my guy.
Emma nods and begins to walk toward me. “Your mom mentioned I should get you to cook for me. I’m looking forward to seeing just how skillful you are.”
Was that a double entendre?
I want to say you’ll more than find out how skillful I am in and out of the kitchen, but I don’t want to push my luck. The energy between us might have been hot that night, but that doesn’t mean she wants to know what it feels like to have my ropes imprinting against her delectable ass.
My jaw clenches as I fight to control my ever-aching dick. It’s been almost a month since she’s been home, and to say that blue balls and I are intimate comrades is putting it lightly. Thank fuck for ice baths and football games.
I bite the inside of my cheek before I reply. “Cooking is a place where I can lose myself. I like to play around with ingredients.” And it’s true. I do like the science of creating all types of masterpieces, whether that be preparing a meal or preparing a lethal cocktail for interrogations.
Once we’re back in the kitchen, I pick up the apron off the table, and then I make my way over to her. Standing before her, I pull the strap over her head before lifting her hair from under the loop. Then I move behind her and tie the strings as I pull her in, lowering my mouth to her ear and asking, “Are you ready to put my skills to the test?”
I swear I can hear her gulp before a soft gasp escapes her. “Yes,” is her only reply as she steps away from me, allowing me to see her face reddening.
Smiling, I clasp her hand and pull her over to the counter.
“I thought we could make homemade pizza for dinner and then some cheesecake-filled chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert,” I state once we reach everything.
Her face lights up. “Oh, I’ll never say no to pizza or cheesecake anything,” she snorts. Her snort morphs into a laugh. “Bitch, I’m the secret ingredient,” she says once she finally takes in the words on her apron. “Do you always have snarky aprons lying around?” she asks.
“I have a few, but I got this one specifically for you,” I inform her, wanting to make sure she knows that tonight was planned down to every detail.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.