Escaping Reality
Page 20

And it’s there, it’s there, and the sexy near growl that escapes his lips tells me it’s there for him, too. He grinds me against him, and my sex clenches around his cock, and I am shaking, or he is shaking. Maybe we both are. It’s a haze of pleasure rushing through my body, and I am clutching him and he me, and I feel the counter beneath me, his arms around my back.
“That’s what you call fast,” he murmurs against my neck, kissing it and my ear before leaning back to search my face. “What are you doing to me, woman? I’m never…” He scrubs his jaw, seeming almost rattled, before his hands go to the counter at my hips. “Next time won’t be like that. Slow, baby. Nice and slow.”
Next time. I am pleased with these words and stunned at the idea that I have affected this man on a level beyond his normal encounters. I surprise myself by smiling. “I didn’t even get to examine the many attributes of Pi.”
His lips curve. “Baby, you can examine it, lick it, do whatever you want to do to it and me, after I feed you. I promised. I meant it.”
Lick it. Yes. Please. Promise. I am not used to promises. I will take this one and put it to good use. He pulls out of me and I gasp. “Warning, please.”
He laughs, a gentle lion’s laugh, deep and sensual. I love that laugh. “We have to get you dressed before someone shows up at the door.” He sets me on the ground and eyes the condom and motions to the other room. “I’ll be right back.” He heads out of the kitchen, probably to the bathroom, and I suddenly realize I don’t even have basics like toilet paper. Now this is truly embarrassing. I’ll have to find a twenty-four-hour store and get some basic stuff. That’s all there is to it.
I wiggle my skirt down my hips, and snatch up his shirt, but I don’t put it on. Liam will need it to answer the door. His words play in my mind. Be inside you now. I have to. I smile to myself at the idea of making a man like Liam “have” to do anything, and I hunt down my panties, bra, and blouse—which appears to be missing a middle button. Nothing like a gaping front to show off your bra. Heading to the living room, I can hear Liam talking to someone on the phone from the bedroom, telling them how to find the entrance to the building. Knowing we will have company soon, I quickly shove my clothes into my carry-on bag and pull out the airport t-shirt I bought before leaving New York.
“The bellman is coming up the elevator now,” Liam says, rounding the doorway just as I pull the t-shirt into place. Stopping dead in his tracks, his expression turns suddenly stormy and intense.
Feeling more than a little awkward at his reaction, I hold up his shirt. “I thought you might need this and I tore the button off of my blouse.”
He stalks forward and stops directly in front of me. “I have never hated an ‘I love New York’ t-shirt more than the one you have on.”
His voice is a tightly pulled cord. He’s angry and I’m baffled. “You hate ‘I love New York’ shirts?”
“I hate what it says about your situation.” A knock sounds on the door, but he doesn’t move. Silence ticks between us and I think he has to be able to hear the thunder of my heart.
Another knock and he turns away, pulling his shirt over his head as he stomps toward the door.
I wet my dry lips and stare down at the shirt, and I feel like an ice pick is chipping away at my nerve endings. I hate what this shirt says about my life, too. And I hate that Liam knows what it says about my life. I hate it because it means I have to make tonight our only night. I knew that already, but I also know a part of me was slipping into a fantasyland where I could allow Liam to be my Prince Charming for just a little bit longer. I’m back now, though. I’m back in reality and no matter what happens tonight, I won’t forget that it translates to one thing and one thing only. Alone.
Chapter Seven
Liam has done his best to convert my apartment into his penthouse suite for me.
I wait by what is supposed to be my new kitchen table where two pizzas fresh from the hotel kitchen wait on us, and listen as Liam sees two hotel staff members out the front door, no doubt tipping them well. In all of fifteen minutes since their arrival I have everything I would have had, had I been in Liam’s room: bedding and pillows, as well as enough paper products, plastic utensils, kitchen items, and basic hygiene products to last me days. The list goes on, with a hair dryer, hotel slippers, and a robe, and my kitchen is stocked with canned sodas and a coffee pot with supplies, including cups. I am truly doubting my decision to stay here rather than go to his room, and not just because he’s likely spent a pretty penny on me. Because I am surely the talk of the hotel now and Liam is exposed by his connection to me.
Dragging a hand through his thick, dark hair, looking tired but incredibly sexy, Liam walks back into the room. “The pizza smells good.”
“Yes,” I agree, but my mind is elsewhere and I hold my hands out to indicate the apartment. “Liam, this, all of this you did, is too much.”
“It isn’t even close to too much.”
“It had to have cost you a small fortune.”
“I have a fortune, Amy.” And he sounds almost…bitter? About being rich? He grabs the pizza boxes that are stacked with a couple of sodas and plasticware, and motions to the bedroom.
“Let’s go eat on the bed.”
Dinner in bed with the sexiest man I’ve ever known. I don’t have it in me to complain.
“Yes. Okay, but thank you for everything. Thank you so very much.”