Chapter 3
Liam
We drive in tension filled silence as I try to control my raging emotions. There is so much to say and do, but I don’t think I have it in me to have a rational conversation with her. The media is all over the story and I’m worried about the repercussions. Even though I’m angry, I can’t help but steal glances at her. She’s too damn beautiful to ignore, but I have to do it. She’s using me as a scapegoat and ruining my business, but I’m not sure why.
I can’t believe I brought her ass to my place, which will only fuel the lies and rumors online. Why am I not having her ass arrested?
I can’t fathom how much I’m letting my dick guide me. For the first time in my life, I’m dying to sink my dick deep inside a woman. Fuck, she’s gorgeous, but she has too much attitude for a woman in her situation.
We finally made it into my building where security could keep any press at bay. I lead her up to my condo, but the air in the elevator is so thick with her scent that I give us as much distance as possible.
I lead her to the hallway and grumble. “Here. Take him to the room over there. Until I can silence the press, you aren’t leaving this damn condo. Do you hear me?” I have no freaking idea where that came from, but this is a mess. One giant circus and that little boy is not my monkey. That’s something I can attest to without fear.
“Are you holding me hostage?” I rub my thumb and finger between my eyes. It’s nutty how I could even be mixed up in something like this. I’m fighting between kissing her and bending her over and spanking her ass.
“Hostage? No. But you’re not leaving, so you better get comfortable for a long stay. End of story.” Before the damn cameras started flashing, I wanted to keep her with me. Now I have an excuse to lock her down in my home. It’s a sick and twisted thought because she’s not the kind of woman I should want. She’s a liar and a con artist, but I can’t stop my brain from shouting, “She’s mine.”
“I doubt you have what’s needed to take care of a baby,” she snipes. Of course, I don’t. I’ve been handed a kid that’s not mine, and I should have just dumped her at her place and left it there. Instead, I think that some things need to be brought here for the little guy.
“Fine. I’ll send my men over to your place to pick up his things,” I muttered.
“That’s stupid.” I can’t believe how freaking much that baby looks like me or rather like my baby pictures. A terrible thought crosses my mind, and I know I must walk away before I really lose my cool.
“Woman, I’m not in the mood for your back talk. You walked into my life and fucked it all up. Now go in there and just do what you have to for him.”
She rolls her eyes at me and carries him into the bedroom. The boy is related to me, but he’s not my son. I have a feeling who the father is, but that would mean she gave it up to him and is blaming it on me. Why, though? I want to ask, but I’m afraid of the answer. It’s not like me to be this indecisive.
I’m pissed. I head into my home office, log into my company network, and get to work. My computer is just as I left it at work. They are connected, so that should I need to, I can access them easily.
I hear her moving around in the kitchen. I check my watch and see that it’s been an hour. Curiosity gets me, so I make my way to the kitchen.
“Do you need any help?” I ask her, startling her into dropping the butter knife on the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Are you hungry?” she says, handing me the sandwich she finished making.
“Yes, but I can make my own.”
“I don’t have cooties.” She has no idea that I want to lick her from head to toe. It’s not cooties I’m afraid of catching. It’s the fuckers called feelings. I’m not equipped to handle it.
“Okay, that’s not why. You made it for yourself. You’ve got to be hungry.”
She grabs a knife and cuts the sandwich in half. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Fuck, she’s so damn pretty. How can she have been with him? I can see it, but I hate the idea that he touched her smooth skin, tasted those soft lips and buried himself deep into her. He gave her the kid I should have given her.
I can’t stand to look at her any longer. I make quick work of my sandwich, thank her, and grab a beer. I have a mess to clean up with the press. I’m sure once my investors hear the rumors and see the media footage, I’m going to be challenged over it.
At twenty-two, I took over full control of the company from my father, but he had done some massive damage to the credibility and bankroll of the business. I’ve had to take on investors during the transition, even though my father had amassed a serious retirement package. Now, after a great deal of work, I no longer need investors, but I publicly can’t take a hit on my reputation which would reflect on the company.