Chapter 10
Liam
When my alarm goes off at 7:00 A.M., the first thing that registers in my mind is that I have a raging hard on, and the reason why is Britain. I slept like complete shit. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About how stupid I was to not ask her to come in with me. I could be fucking her instead of my hand right now. Why didn’t I ask her to come in again? Oh yeah, I was trying to be a “good boy,” for her. I think I could really like her. I don’t want her thinking for a minute all I want from her is sex. Even though I want that, too. A lot.
This day is going to be miserable if I don’t get some relief. I fist my rock-hard cock and start moving. I’m wishing it was her hand, not mine. I’m wishing she was leaning over me and taking the head of my cock in her sweet mouth, sucking me. I wish I was looking at her pink nipples and plump breasts bouncing as she bobs on me, and my mind flashes to the visual of her last night in the window. I’d only seen her in baggy sweats and a baggy sweater, I didn’t realize what she had underneath. She was even more gorgeous than what I imagined.
And I had imagined her, I was already thinking about what she would look like. When we danced last night, I was wondering what it would be like for us to dance like that, naked, at home. Her tits brushing against my chest, her perky ass under my palm as I give her a spank. I was hard as a rock last night, too, embarrassing myself by not being able to walk off the dance floor when she clearly wanted to. To be honest, I could have let her go and adjusted my sweats discreetly, but I wanted those last two dances with her in my arms.
I can still hear her moan when I kissed her last night, and my balls get tight at the memory. I close my eyes,
“I’m gonna come, Bambi. What do you want me to do?” I ask as she greedily sucks on my head, swirling her tongue underneath it. “Bambi…”
“I want to take it. Give it to me, please,” she says, then places her mouth back over my shaft. Not able to fit the whole length, she’s using her hand to assist. But then she removes her hand and slams down on my full length, and I slip into her throat. I grip her head to me, hands fisting her hair. Between the sight of my girl on me and the feel of my tip hitting her deeply, I erupt, spilling my hot spurts down her throat while she continues sucking. Pulling out every single drop.
I open my eyes and see my hand fisting my cock while the last bit of my cum seeps from me, and my abdomen is covered in my own semen. Fuck, that might have been the best orgasm I’ve had in years. I’m still picturing the visual of Britain’s mouth on me and I’m already semi hard. Fuck. I guess it’s going to be a ‘cold shower before working out’ kind of a day.
After my shower, I throw on a pair of sweats and head downstairs for a cup of coffee. I’m almost to the bottom step when the sound of moving paper stops me in my tracks. Dread seeps down my spine. I take a slow step down to the floor, but there’s nothing but an empty great room. My mind is playing tricks on me. Fucking weird.
I turn the corner into my kitchen and halt.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“Who, me?” she asks, feigning ignorance, like always.
“Who the fuck else, Tori?!”
“Right, well, I needed to bring over my severance papers and thought, why not make it a house call?!” The positivity radiating off her has my stomach in knots. I have the sudden urge to throw away all the food in my house. She might have laced it with poison.
“That could have been an email. To Gina. Do not come to my house ever again. Do you understand?”
“Oh, I understand. Crystal clear, peaches,” she says, but she’s not looking at me, she’s looking out the window. She stands and says,“Well, that’s my cue to go.”
She starts walking towards the front door, but she’s slipping off her shoes, picking them up to carry, untucking part of her blouse, and smudging her makeup with the back of her palm. I think she’s finally going to leave when she opens the door, but then hesitates. She turns back to look at me and her face is filled with fury.
“I can’t believe you just fucked me, and now you’re letting me go! I should have listened when the others told me you're no good for anything more than a one night stand, but I loved you! And you, you’re just dumping me out like a piece of trash to move on to your next play thing!” She’s raging at me. She steps out onto the porch, but turns around again, “You’ve wasted the last two years of my life!” She huffs out, walking to her car.
What in the actual fuck? I slam the door shut behind her, locking it. Not that it fucking matters since she clearly still has my keys from when she sold the house to me. Which begs another question about her ethics, or lack of. I whip out my phone and press call.
“Hey, man.”
“Niko, I’ll give you one chance to guess why I’m calling you before 8:00 on a Wednesday morning.”
“Fuck,” he whispers away from the mic, then he’s back, “Tori?”
“Yup.”
“What’d she do now?”
“She fucking broke into my house this morning like a lunatic!”
“Of course she did. She rob you? Did you wake up with a knife to your throat?
“No, she was just sitting in my kitchen, acting unhinged. But I’m calling because-”
He cuts me off, “Locksmith? I’m on it. You need me to come to your house?”
“No, I’m gonna work from home today. Can you just post up at Broken Ridge? Let’s start getting the sales space packed up and ready to transition over to the HOA.”
“Yes, sir,” Niko says.
“Alright, I’ll talk to you later today.”
“You got it,” Niko replies, and I end the call. Guess I’m not in a rush to work out if I’ll be home all day. I go to make a coffee, but pause thinking better of it. I dump out the beans and make a mental note to replace everything in my pantry.
Britain
I woke up excited, like a little girl on Christmas morning. Even though it ended with me feeling a bit shot down last night, it was still the best kiss I’ve had in years. I’m getting hot and wet just thinking about it again. I was up at 5:00 A.M., which considering that’s 8:00 Eastern, felt freaking amazing. After reading the news and checking emails, I got up and unpacked some of my luggage. Realizing what I was doing, I paused and smiled to myself. I’d decided to stay. I slipped in some AirPods and finished organizing the dresser, and hanging up a few nicer pieces.
By the time I’d completed my couple of tasks and made the bed, I figured it was probably time to start getting back into my normal routine. Walk two miles every morning, row four km, then do 15 minutes of yoga. With the travel and prep, I’d gotten out of sync, but it’s super important to me to maintain it for my physical and mental health. So I throw on some yoga pants, a thermal, a sweatshirt, and my Hokas and head out for my walk.
I breathe in the smell of evergreens and damp earth as I step out the apartment door onto the stairway. It soothes my soul. I’m at the bottom step when I notice there are now three cars parked in the driveway. It’s only like 6:45, a bit early for company. A familiar unease fills my stomach. It’s a gut feeling, and it’s probably nothing, but I’ve felt this feeling before. And each time I have, there was always some other woman with my man at the other end of it.
But Liam’s not “my man.” He’s allowed to have company, “friends,” girlfriends. The only problem with that would be that it makes him a liar, and I fucking hate liars. Maybe it’s a house cleaner or something, or a personal trainer, or maybe he has a roommate. I don’t know, it’s not for me to worry about, my personal attempt to cajole myself. I increase the volume on my workout playlist and start making my way down the driveway and out to the street.
When I first stepped out, the morning chill was biting, but once the sun broke through the tree canopy and I picked up my pace, I was sweating, which I fucking love. I always thought people were lying about workout-induced endorphins, but it turns out that’s a real thing. Who knew? I end up walking a bit more than two miles since I haven’t learned the distance of the landmarks here, yet. I’m honestly feeling great when I notice the door to Liam’s house is open, so I slip out an earbud in anticipation to say hi.
But instead, all I hear is a shrill voice. Whoever it is, she’s yelling. And she’s fucking pissed.
“I can’t believe you just fucked me, and now you’re letting me go! I should have listened when the others told me you're no good for anything more than a one night stand, but I loved you! And you, you’re just dumping me out like a piece of trash to move on to your next play thing!”
My stomach drops at those words. What am I witnessing right now? I feel like I shouldn’t be listening, but I can’t stop myself. The source of the voice steps out onto the porch and I feel the bile rise in my throat when I see that it’s Tori. Tori, who’s dating the developer…Click, it falls into place. He fucking lied to me. He has a girlfriend and he couldn’t fuck me last night because he was still with his girlfriend, and it appears he decided to give her a farewell fucking, too. Been there, girl.
“You’ve wasted the last two years of my life!” Bastard, is all I can think right now. He just kissed me like he was ready to take me on the side of his car last night, and he was still with his girlfriend…of multiple years? What kind of immature, man child shit is that?
Tori walks past me, giving me a deathly kind of glare as I hear the front door slam shut to Liam’s house. She gets in her Tesla, backing away, glaring at me the entire time. To be fair, I haven’t moved from my spot by the stairs since I heard them. The polite thing to do would’ve been to keep moving, but I just couldn’t. I’m sure the look on my face is pure shock, but that’s fading fast. Men are pricks. I don’t know why I keep letting them fool me. How can I be this bad at reading people?
Well, let’s put all this fury into a workout, Britain. I enter the key code to the garage and the door rolls up revealing a surprisingly nice home gym, complete with a rower, my one rental requirement everywhere I go. I’m going to let this fuel me, push me, and then, then I’m going to go get a tall stack of pancakes from the diner, alone. Because I am a strong, independent woman.
After my pancakes and bacon (because why the fuck not?), I head over to The Grounds, Sandy’s coffee shop. It’s very much equal parts shop and cafe. There’s bistro tables and chairs on the right, then there’s the left side, chock full of everything “Spearhead Lake.” There’s sweatshirts, and Yetis, and hats, and coffee mugs, all perfectly arranged and orderly. There’s also home goods and candles, and I make a mental note to put a big dent in her stock before I leave. I know what everyone’s getting for Christmas this year.
I walk up to the counter and look over the menu. I’m happy to see she offers three kinds of non-dairy milk, thank god. There’s also a glass cabinet that’s housing muffins, sticky buns, and a couple loaves of different kinds of bread. You just had pancakes, I remind myself.
Sandy pops out from behind a curtained back walkway and heads straight towards the counter and register. “Look who it is! I was hoping you’d come by this morning.” I smile at her friendly attitude, a refreshing change from D.C.
“Hi, Sandy. Couldn’t resist a free cup of coffee,” I say, smiling. I’m friendly, but a couple decades spent around people who only want to talk to you based on your profession or position in life tends to dull your spirit. Being outgoing is a muscle I’m going to have to work harder at now that I don’t have a partner to fall back on.
“What can I make ya?”
“Can I have an almond milk, vanilla latte?”
“Sure thing, baby,” Sandy says, then shoos me away from the counter while she turns around to make it.
There’s only one other person in here right now, an elderly gentleman with thick reading glasses on, perusing the local newspaper, The Bee. I may as well get a jump start on my shopping while I wait. I head to the stacks of sweatshirts and start looking for my size, holding it up to see if it’ll be baggy enough for me. I decide on the XL since I fully intend on entering “loungey hermit mode” if I keep staying here. I grab a couple different sizes for the girls and one for Jess, too. I also grab a wine glass Yeti cup, I’m going to be needing that, and take my loot to the counter.
Sandy turns back around, my latte in hand, and I see she’s made it for here, in a large white mug on a plate with a biscotti sitting on the edge. Of course, I should've known she’d want me to stick around to drink it.
“Set all that to the side. Let’s sit down and chat while your mug cools.” It’s not a question, so I pick out the table by the window and Sandy follows me, my mug and plate still in her wrinkled hands. She’s wearing an apron that’s covered in printed flowers, jeans with cowboy boots on underneath, and a button-down flannel shirt. She reminds me of a character from a Hallmark movie, and I love it.
We sit down and get comfortable, like two friends who’ve known each other for years. It reminds me of Rose and I smile, missing her.
“Alright baby, dish it.”
“I don’t know what you mean?” I ask.
“You didn’t think the free coffee was really for the music, did you?”
“Umm, maybe?”
“Well, it was, but it was also so you’d come here and tell me your life story. And what you were doing looking all tight with William Millar.”
“Ahh,” I laugh, “I’m afraid there’s not really much to tell, about my life story, or William Millar.”
“Whenever someone says that, I know the story’s gonna be three times juicier than I imagined.”
I laugh again. There’s something about her that just makes me want to tell her. “Alright, brief synopsis, and I’ll allow five follow-on questions, deal?”
“Deal.” She laughs, then sets her elbows on the table and leans in. I give her the rundown of me leaving home, a broken-hearted 18 year old. I tell her about Damian and my life with the girls, about Georgia’s passing, then about Damian and his new…Summer. Then I finish off with William Millar.
“There’s not really much to say about Liam. I met him when I was 18. He was sort of my mom’s boss? She worked for his dad, William senior actually, but then he passed away. And when Liam took over his share of the business, my mom stayed on, but she technically started working for Connie after that. But, I digress. It was just by chance that my assistant booked my stay at his rental for the next six weeks.” I shrug, but keep going.
“And, well, yesterday was a hard day. I found out my ex is going to propose to his girlfriend, in like a week and a half, and we haven’t even signed the final papers. Then seeing Liam again at his work brought back some unpleasant memories, and when he came home last night, I think he just saw me and felt bad. So he offered to take me to get dinner. Which led us to Colton’s, which led me to you.”
“Uh, huh. You really believe that?” she asks.
“Which part?”
“The ‘by chance’ part, and the ‘he just felt bad for you part.’ When you’ve been around the sun as many times as me, baby, you learn there’s no such thing as chance. Nope. Another thing I’ve learned is when a man looks at a woman the way he was looking at you, he don’t feel bad for you, sweetheart.” My cheeks turn pink, and I give her a gentle smile in return. I’m debating telling her about this morning. I don’t really know how big of a gossip she is, so I won’t say much.
“But he has a girlfriend. So, it’s not like anything could really come from him looking at me any type of way, even if I wanted it to.”
“William doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Sandy says.
“Umm, I’m pretty sure he does.”
“Nope, I’d know it.” This woman can’t really pretend to know about the personal relationships of bar regulars, can she?
“Okay, well his co-worker/girlfriend was outside his house this morning, screaming at him for wasting the last two years of her life, and for,” I whisper this next part, not sure her offense level, “fucking her.” I return to normal volume, “and dumping her like garbage. Maybe he doesn’t have a girlfriend now, but it sounds like he did last night.”
“You talking about Tori? He was supposed to fire her yesterday. Sounds like he probably did. When the man upstairs was assembling that one, he left some screws a bit loose, if you catch my drift.”
“How do you-” I start to ask, when she cuts me off.
“William’s my baby, baby,” and she winks at me. Ahhh.
“You’re Liam’s mom.”
“And proud of it.”
“Got it. Well then, I’m really glad I didn’t put your son on blast right now. When you asked about Liam, my initial thought was he’s a liar and a prick and a bastard for kissing me last night, and then breaking up with his girlfriend this morning.” I laugh and she laughs, too, thank god.
“He kissed you?” Such an innocent question, but now that I know that’s her son and that I might really like him, I turn bashful. And bright red. I hate being pale.
“He did,” and it was the fucking kiss of the century. I smile at the memory. “That was your third question, Sandy.” I say in mock warning.
“Oh shoot, you're a sharp one. Can I see pictures of your girls?”
“Oh my god, yes. Of course.”
“Great, and then my last question is, will you come back and see me again? I promise I won’t make you spill any details about anything, if you don’t want to. But I like you. You’re good people, baby.” My heart melts, it’s like being with a mother again, like being with Georgia, well, what I always wished Georgia was like. My eyes are filling with tears, and she’s probably thinking I’m a total sap right now, but she just wraps me in a warm hug. She smells like fresh baked bread and lilacs.
“Yes, I will, and thank you, Sandy.” She releases me from the embrace. “I forget what it’s like to have someone be, I don’t know,” I pause, “maternal towards me. I’d forgotten, so thank you.” I notice her eyes are brimmed with tears now, too.
“Anytime, sugar. Now pull out that phone so I can see some pictures.”