Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LIAM
Briar falls back to sleep before I do, her breathing turning slow and even, and the peace I feel with her asleep in my arms is enough to put me to sleep too. The next thing I’m aware of is a ringing phone.
Briar’s still in my arms, but she sits up, blindly reaching for the bedside table to make it stop.
She throws me a wild look when she sees the screen. “It’s Hannah.”
I brush a soothing hand down her bare back.
“She doesn’t know I’m in your bed, Briar.
She’s not psychic. You can answer.” I glance out of her window, taking in the dim glow of predawn light, and feel a tickle of anxiety.
I’m used to watching out for my family, especially for Hannah.
“She’s not a morning person. If she’s calling this early, it must be important. ”
She bites her lip and answers the phone.
A second later, she says, “Yes, that’s what happened, but honestly, Hannah, it’s barely seven.” She pauses. “No, I didn’t take pictures. It seemed like it would be rude.”
Since I’m mostly sure the call is not related to an emergency or the fact that I’m here, I breathe a sigh of relief. Hannah’s okay.
I head into the bathroom to take a leak and then start the shower, figuring Briar can join me there once she’s off the call. The water feels like it’s purging the worst of my hangover and mostly sleepless night, so I stay in there awhile, laughing to myself at the sweet, fruity smell of her soap.
I’m still washing when she walks in, dressed in her sleep shirt and panties. She smiles at the sight of me using the soap. “You’re going to smell like me.”
“Good.”
She takes a step toward the shower door, but then pauses, her expression uncertain. “Hannah called because she wanted to know about Nora’s mom and Eugene. I forgot to tell you that he proposed to her yesterday. We were all really surprised.”
“Why don’t you come in here and tell me all about it. I’ll pretend to be interested in Eugene’s love life while I finger-fuck you.”
“Liam,” she gasps.
I laugh. “Who are you worried is going to hear me? Karma? Now, are you going to come in, or do I have to get out and carry you in?”
Her eyes light up with mischief, and she runs out of the bathroom, leaving me with no choice but to follow her—soaking wet and buck naked.
She shrieks with laughter when I catch up with her in the hallway just beyond the bedroom and wrap my soaked arms around her. “You’re all wet!”
“Now you are too,” I say, slinging her over my shoulder. “Hopefully in lots of interesting places.”
She slaps my shoulder as I march us back to the bedroom. “You’re horrible.”
“I am, but you seem to like it, so I don’t have any motivation to change.”
I slide into the en suite bathroom and set her down next to the shower, grinning like a total idiot—feeling like one, too, but not caring much. “I think you should take those clothes off, Briar. They’re soaked.”
She smiles playfully as she slowly pulls her loose top over her head, letting her hair fall in a wild riot around her bare chest.
Damn, she’s a sight for sore eyes. I could stare at her for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t be long enough, but why settle for staring when you can touch?
I grab a fistful of her hair and use it to tug her closer. “Come into the shower with me. I want to do dirty things to you.”
“My hair will get wet,” she objects.
“I want to wash it for you.”
She grins at me. “You promised to do dirty things to me.”
“Oh, it’ll be fucking dirty. You haven’t seen me do it yet.”
I kiss her while she’s still laughing.
She pulls back and steps out of her underwear, leaving her entirely bare for me. She’s a goddess, framed in gold.
I open the shower door and tug her in with me.
The hot water beats down on us as I kiss her slowly, losing myself in the moment. She’s warm and safe, and right now she’s mine. She kisses me back with the same slow reverence.
I run my hands through her hair and pull back. “Where’s your shampoo?”
She points to a wire rack built into the corner of the oversized shower stall. “You’re really going to wash it?”
“I want to take care of you. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten that I made other promises too.” I turn her in my arms and reach between her legs as the water continues to pound down on us.
“Does this mean I have to talk about Eugene’s engagement?” she says in a breathy voice. “Because I don’t think I want to anymore.”
I lean in, rubbing her slickness with my fingers. “Please don’t.”
She hums and backs into me, my dick hard as hell as I thrust my fingers into her, hungry for the way she’s responding to my touch.
“I wish I had more hands,” I mutter as I run my other hand over her slick body, palming her breasts as she grinds into me.
My mind starts wandering—When will this end? How will it end? Does it need to end?—but I corral it back to the present moment. I want to enjoy her while I have her. I can only hope that she might want to keep me too, that we’ll figure out a way to make it work.
Briar moans as I curl my fingers inside her, finding a spot she likes, and suddenly the only thing that matters is giving her pleasure.
“Bend over for me, Princess,” I whisper in her ear. “Hold onto that wall and lift your ass up.”
She glances over her shoulder at me as she plants her hands on the wall and pushes her waist out.
Fuck me, I want to slam into her—I want it so badly my body is nearly trembling with need. But promises were made. I run my hands over her sopping-wet hair again, then grab the shampoo from the rack and squeeze some into my hand.
“You’re washing my hair right now?” she whispers as if scandalized.
“I’m taking care of you,” I reply, using one hand to start rubbing the shampoo in while I return the other to its rightful spot between her legs. “All the way.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers, arcing into my touch.
But I can’t rinse the shampoo out with only one hand, and there’s something else I want to see—another sight to memorize in case she’s taken from me.
“I need both of my hands to finish up your hair, Princess,” I whisper into her ear. “You’d better take care of yourself while I finish.”
She looks back at me, her eyes full of desire, and I get a little bit harder. Something that shouldn’t be possible. She keeps her gaze locked on mine as she removes one hand from the wall and reaches between her legs.
I do the only thing I can and lean in and kiss her wet lips before rinsing the rest of the shampoo from her hair and massaging the conditioner in.
All the while, she continues to pleasure herself, her body responding with small gasps and shudders, and finally I can’t take it anymore.
I fist a hand in her slick hair and bend my knees enough that I’m level.
“You can stop fucking yourself, Princess,” I say. “I’m going to take over.”
A glorious sound escapes her, and she pulls her hand away, slapping it against the wall.
I don’t wait. I can’t—
I’m already lined up, and I thrust into her in one long stroke.
It feels so good, I nearly lose my balance and wipe out on the wet tiles.
She pushes back, deepening our contact, and I use my hand in her hair to turn her head enough so I can press another desperate kiss to her mouth as I pull out and, using my grip on her hip, press back in.
Then I do it again, still kissing her, because I want nothing more than to lose myself in her again.
We keep moving together, the water spraying down on us, and again, I feel something inside of me, slumbering for too long, awakening.
She breaks her mouth away from mine for just a moment, to say, “I’m so close, Liam. I’m—”
She doesn’t need to say another word. I feel her clenching around me, and the sensation is so overwhelmingly good that I lose myself with her. Maybe I find myself too, because right now—still buried inside her, our bodies pressed together—I feel at peace.
It’s possible she feels it too, because when I finally start to pull out, she reaches around and coaxes me back. “Just for another second.”
I squeeze her close, and after I finally pull away, I help her rinse her hair.
We dry off and pull on our clothes—silent but in an almost worshipful way, not uncomfortable at all. When we’re dressed, Briar takes her brush out to the living area and sits down at the small table.
“Will you let me braid it?” I ask.
It’s not the sort of thing I’d say at the boxing gym, definitely not in front of Mick, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.
Her brows knit together. “Most men don’t know how to take care of long hair.”
“I’m not most men.”
She hands the brush over.
I section her golden hair and slowly pull the brush through each part, careful not to tug against her scalp.
She peers back at me as I start to weave her long tresses into a braid.
“No, Briar,” I say, deciding to answer the unasked question.
“I don’t know how to do this because I’m a man-whore or because I used to work in a hair salon.
You know our mother left when we were little, and Hannah was a few years younger than me.
I learned how from the internet so I could help her. ”
I pull the elastic from my wrist and use it to tie the end of the braid. Maybe she’ll give it back to me, and it will smell like her for another few days.
She turns in the chair, her eyes full of worry. “I don’t want to get between you and Hannah. I love Hannah too.”
“I know you do,” I say, brushing my fingers across her cheek.
“Thank you for that. I like knowing she’s got other people looking out for her.
But we’re not going to worry about Hannah right now.
Not today. I think we should just spend time together.
We’ll figure the rest out later. Now, what do you usually do at this time of morning? Walk me through your day.”
Worry still shines in her eyes, but she smiles. “I usually do some yoga before I head to work.”
“Okay, let’s do yoga.”