Chapter 27 – Gabriella
Istressed baked…then stressed cleaned the kitchen.
The clock on the stove ticked by, and Liam still wasn’t there by ten-thirty.
Storm laid in the corner on his back, scooted into the cabinets so that his lanky body was smooshed under the overhang.
I debated scooping him up and going to read, but I didn’t think I could sit still.
When the garage door finally opened, I let out a sigh of relief.
The tracker was on the back counter, tucked between the decorative canisters.
It wasn’t hiding. I wanted to explain before I showed it to him.
It was silly, but part of me was convinced that the damn disc of metal might harm Liam if he touched it.
Like a cursed talisman. I refused to look at it.
Liam pushed through the door. I took a deep breath. The confession died on my lips. Something dangerous pulsed around him.
Don’t lose your freaking nerve!
Not now. Not when I had the story rehearsed. The solution was right there.
But something about seeing the mobster made me panic. It wasn’t rational. The response was probably trauma induced. I couldn’t speak. Words failed me. I opened my mouth and croaked.
Liam narrowed his eyes. The mask shifted on his face, and he reached to rub his jaw, right under the plastic.
Storm snorted, rolled over, and sat up with a floppy, jerking motion. The moment the pup realized Liam was here, he let out a happy yap and tripped over his too-long legs to reach Liam.
Squatting, Liam chuckled. “Some guard dog.”
“Hi,” I breathed. Come on, you can do it. “How was your night?”
“Grand,” Liam drawled. It sounded like it had been the opposite. “Yours?”
“Busy,” I hedged.
My husband hummed. “Had a little visit to your old job, did you?”
I swallowed hard. “I did.”
Rising, careful not to trip over the puppy that wove around his feet, Liam closed the distance between us.
“The lads said you seemed off. What happened?” He studied me, that piercing grey-blue gaze not missing a thing.
Storm wined.
“He needs to go potty,” I breathed.
“Uh-huh, and you need to quit avoiding the question.” Liam reached for me.
I didn’t mean to. If I hadn’t had a glass of wine and far too much espresso, I wouldn’t have flinched. But the motion of his bare hand coming toward my face made me.
Liam stopped.
His jaw tightened, and I swore I could hear his teeth grind.
“Liam, I—”
“Save it.” He curled his fingers into a fist. Stooping, he plucked the puppy into his arms and stalked past me.
I hurried to the dining room, where Liam shoved the French door open. He tossed the pup out. Storm landed on his feet, shook himself, and trotted over to his favorite bush to sniff the ground before squatting.
“Can we just talk?” I pleaded.
“No.”
That hard word cracked through the air.
What was I thinking? That he was going to be my knight in shining armor? That telling him would solve this problem? And yet if I didn’t, then I was keeping valuable information that my father wanted his whereabouts tracked a secret.
I couldn’t let anything happen to Liam. He didn’t deserve that.
“Please, Liam.”
“Go to bed.” He crossed his arms and stared into the backyard.
I stared at his profile. The way the mask rubbed against his skin. In a way, it was symbolic of the distance between us. We’d hung out a few times, done dirty, deliciously depraved things, and yet we were basically strangers.
“I just need to tell you—”
With a harsh growl, Liam turned away. His gloved hand reached up and tore the mask from his face. I couldn’t see what was on the other side because he pushed through the swinging door to the hall.
I raced after him.
But he was already entering his home gym. By the time I reached the door, it was locked.
Dropping my head against the barrier, I whispered, “I just need to tell you I’m sorry.”
Liam wasn’t going to hit me. Yet my stupid body flinched. The image of the mask in his hand as he’d ripped open the gym door played in my mind. How did I make him see I didn’t care what he looked like? That I was ready for the mask to come off.
What’s the point? I’m leaving.
And he would probably think that was because a scarred beast like him wasn’t worthy of me.
“You are,” I promised. “You’re a good man. And if there was a way I could stay, I would consider it.”
But that would mean leaving too big a piece of my heart behind. I would always be broken. Scarred on the inside.
***
I tossed and turned. It was after two before I finally threw back the covers. Liam wasn’t coming to bed.
“I have to do something,” I whispered to Storm.
The puppy snorted and rolled onto his back, half falling off the doggy bed on the floor.
Padding downstairs on bare feet, I checked the gym. The door was open, the space empty. So I went to the front sitting room. I didn’t need to turn on the phone flashlight. Liam was here. I felt him.
But he wasn’t in his armchair.
He laid on the couch, face buried in the pillow where I curled to read most days. I stepped right next to the couch and began to undress.
“What are you doing, little bird?” he rasped.
The scent of whiskey perfumed the air. The slim shaft of light from outside showed the bottle was on the coffee table, mostly full.
“Sit up,” I whispered.
He didn’t move.
“Please, Liam.”
He growled and turned away, ignoring the desperation in my voice.
There had to be something I could say to get through to him! I wracked my brains, wondering if I should start touching myself.
And then, it dawned on me.
Holding my breath and praying this worked, I crouched. Careful not to touch, I tried again.
“Please…master.”
Liam tensed. I bit my lip, waiting to see if he accepted the olive branch. After a moment, he cursed and pushed himself up.
I exhaled.
Leaning forward, I ran my palms over those thick, strong thighs. I could feel the bubbled scar tissue under the slacks on the right side. My fingers grasped his belt, and I flicked it open. Liam tipped his hips to let me pull it free. After I set it beside him, I lifted my gaze.
He could probably see me better than I saw him. He was darkness against the shadows of the room. With the muted light coming through the cracked blinds, an eerie halo framed his outline.
I wet my lips, knowing he watched.
But as my fingers reached for his zipper, he caught my hands.
“Come here,” he growled.
And tugged me onto his lap.
This was good. This was progress.
I straddled his legs as he forced my head down for a hard, bruising kiss. He tasted of oak and char, sin and night. I kissed him back, rocking my body against his. But I didn’t touch him, not with my hands. I gripped the back of the couch as he stole the very breath from my lungs.
“Jaysus, you’re so wet, I can feel you through my trousers,” he rasped against my mouth.
“I want you.” I pulled at his bottom lip with my teeth.
With a vicious tug, he opened the fly on his pants and freed his dick. He slid it against my pussy, making me moan desperately into his mouth. And then he was pushing against my entrance, sliding into my heat.
I whimpered. Stretched. Full.
“You’ve trapped me, little bird,” he breathed. “What are you going to do with me?”
Lifting my body, I lowered onto him and pushed him deeper. Pleasure rushed through my veins, so I did it again.
Liam gripped my hips, letting out a rough, strained breath. The sound was intoxicating. In my desperation to make him do that again, I didn’t realize at first that both his hands were bare.
This was as naked as he’d ever been with me. And I hated that I couldn’t see him.
I switched movements, grinding and rocking onto his hard length.
There was nothing tender or soft about the collision.
I took him hard, chasing the pleasure that was already there.
Our heavy breathing filled the space between us, mingling like some broken chord that couldn’t keep up with the melody.
Liam didn’t talk me to the edge of the orgasm. He didn’t speak. But his body had just as much to say as mine did.
Bending my forehead, I pressed it against his. Liam tensed, but only for a second. That gave me the courage to press my lips against his brow. To kiss him…differently.
His fingers tightened, he pushed me hard, burying himself to the hilt. Holding me in place, his body spasmed. Inside, his cock twitched.
He was in me.
All of him.
Something in me snapped, and I began to whimper. His right hand slid between us. That thumb that I’d never seen without a glove brushed against my clit.
The pleasure exploded. I cried out, digging my fingers into the couch, my breath fanning across his scalp.
In the aftermath, I wasn’t able to draw a proper breath. Liam lifted me and set me on my feet.
“Go on, back to bed,” he said not unkindly.
I reached for him then, clasped my fingers around his right hand. “Come with me.”
He sat there. Through our touch, I felt him shake.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Just let me clean up this mess.”
Scooping up my clothes, I left him to have a moment to himself. Because that was what he was asking. The mess between my legs made climbing the stairs embarrassingly awkwardly. I paused on the top landing, wiping at myself with the sleeper shorts, which were going straight in the laundry bin.
A noise below made me look back.
Crouched in the dark, the devil bent at the bottom of the stairs. I tiptoed to the bend in the wall, peering around the aperture. Liam seemed to be…praying.
With a ragged breath, he leaned forward and kissed the bottom step.
I frowned.
He lifted his head and did the same thing to the next. As he climbed, on his hands and knees, he didn’t miss a single stair.
Whatever this quiet ritual was, I didn’t understand. By the time he reached the first landing where the direction of the steps led in a different direction, I scampered back to our room. He didn’t need to know I’d seen his private moment of insanity.
Bolting under the covers, I cursed when I realized I was still naked. There wasn’t time to go back for clothes, because the monster crept into the room a moment later. He slid into bed.
“Thank you for coming down, Gabriella,” he whispered before rolling over.
I stared at his back, at a complete loss for words.