Chapter 34
Liam
Filming had wrapped three days ago; the last scene was in the can, and the shooting for season one was officially finished.
Now it was post-production’s turn to work its invisible magic—editing, color correction, ADR, all the behind-the-scenes polish the audience would never think about.
There would be interviews soon, maybe a red carpet or two, but tonight was the wrap party.
The ballroom shimmered beneath the chandeliers, gold light pooling across the marble floors.
Laughter rolled across the room in bright, easy waves as the cast and crew gathered with producers and plus-ones to celebrate.
The months of long hours and missed sleep had melted into shared stories and champagne toasts.
Even the rougher moments from filming seemed softened here, blurred into the background in favor of joy.
It had been a couple of weeks since Stockton.
Days filled with stolen touches and quiet moments tucked between takes.
Their secret kept safely in the shadows.
And now they were here, standing in a room built for spectacle, surrounded by tuxedos and sequined gowns, pretending they were nothing more than co-stars.
Liam leaned against the open bar, a half-finished champagne flute dangling from his hand. Laughter drifted around him, people embracing like family, even though he’d seen some of those same hugs turn to knives on set.
Across the room, by the balcony doors, Jacob stood with Caroline, looking unfairly perfect. His dark suit was tailored to the edge of sin, the fabric clinging to broad shoulders. His stillness radiated a dangerous kind of grace.
Caroline was dressed in black silk, her hair immaculate, every inch the poised Hollywood wife. Her hand rested lightly on Jacob’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Liam’s stomach gave a mean, ugly twist.
Emma had come too, though he’d told her she didn’t have to if she wasn’t feeling up to it.
She’d insisted, wanting to be there to support him.
She looked beautiful and radiant, even if she needed to spend most of the evening seated.
Standing for hours had become too much at this stage of her pregnancy.
Liam had been attentive, checking in, making sure her water was full and her chair comfortable—the picture of a devoted husband.
None of it stopped the storm brewing inside him.
He watched Caroline lean in close, her fingers grazing Jacob’s wrist in a way that screamed familiarity.
Jacob angled himself toward her, his hand finding the small of her back like it was second nature.
Something hot and painful knifed through his chest at the sight.
He didn’t understand why the jealousy was so bad tonight.
They’d been having a full-blown affair for over a month now.
Liam had long since made his peace with the fact that Jacob went home to her every night—or at least that’s what he told himself.
He had accepted it in the quiet way you accept something you can’t change.
But tonight, seeing him in that role was more than Liam could stand to watch.
It wasn’t like Liam wanted to be reckless; he wasn’t trying to fall apart in public—but it happened anyway. He didn’t even notice he was moving until the crowd blurred around him. He only stopped when Jacob turned his head, as though some invisible wire had pulled taut between them.
Liam’s hand closed around his arm. “Can we talk?”
Jacob blinked warily. “Now?”
“Now.”
Caroline looked between them, smiling with the kind of gracious confusion only a politician’s wife or a seasoned Hollywood spouse could master. Jacob met her smile with one of his own, a quick curve of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes, before letting Liam pull him away.
They slipped down a hallway lined with catering tables. Staff looked up, then dropped their eyes, pretending not to see. The music and laughter receded behind them, fading to a pulse behind the walls. They finally stopped in a corridor where no one else had reason to pass.
Jacob pulled free. “What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same,” he said, hearing the anger in his own voice.
"You dragged me away to pick a fight? Here?"
A humorless sound escaped Liam’s throat. “Not to fight. I just…” He raked a hand through his hair, the words tumbling out after being held too long. “I couldn’t watch it anymore.”
“Watch what?”
“You. With her. Like none of this…” He gestured between them. “…matters.”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “It matters.”
Liam stepped in, close enough to feel his breath. “Do you still fuck her?”
He hadn’t meant to say it. The words tasted bitter and sharp, and once out they couldn’t be dragged back. They’d never talked about this, barely even touched on the lives they went home to, but Liam needed to know. He couldn’t carry the question around one second longer.
Jacob went still.
“Tell me,” Liam said, softer now, almost a plea. “Do you?”
Jacob’s jaw locked tight, eyes turning to the side—and that was his answer.
“Say it,” Liam pushed. “Say you still climb into her bed, kiss her, pretend I don’t exist.”
“Liam,” Jacob warned.
“What, afraid I won’t like the truth?”
“Stop.”
The pressure in Liam’s chest burst. “Do you fuck her and then touch me the same way? Am I just a distraction, Jacob? A little stress relief before you crawl back into—”
Jacob moved. His hand fisted in Liam’s jacket before he slammed him against the wall, the shock of it stealing his breath. Jacob’s voice burned with anger. “You want the truth? I haven’t touched her since the first time I fucked you.”
Liam’s heart stumbled.
“I don’t kiss her,” Jacob went on, each word deliberate. “Her mouth feels all wrong. I can’t touch her—she doesn’t make those desperate little sounds you make. She doesn’t claw at me. And she never falls apart in my hands the way you do.”
The air between them was molten.
“And her eyes?” His gaze locked on Liam’s. “They’re not that shade of whiskey that ruins me every damn time.”
“Jacob—”
“I used to think pussy was the holy grail. Thought I’d die in it.” His voice broke, his forehead pressing to Liam’s. “Now? Now all I want is you. Your mouth. Your moans. That greedy little ass. The way you beg when I’ve got you pinned.”
They stayed locked there, chests heaving, breathing like they’d just run a marathon. Heat rolled off Jacob in waves. His eyes didn’t move from Liam’s face when he said, “Happy now?”
Liam couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. The world had narrowed to Jacob’s voice and the wild, erratic thrum of his own heartbeat. The truth Jacob had just laid bare overwhelmed him.
Jacob’s eyes searched his, refusing to let him look away. “What about you?” he asked, voice scraped raw. “If I have to answer, so do you.”
Heat crept up Liam’s neck, but he didn’t look away. He just shook his head.
Jacob’s grip tightened. “That’s not good enough. Speak.”
Liam’s chest ached. “No,” he whispered. “I can’t even pretend with her anymore. Not when it’s you I want.”
A dangerous heat flickered in Jacob’s eyes, something wild and possessive breaking through. His voice was a low growl. “You want to be mine? Then take me.”
Liam didn’t get a single breath in before Jacob’s mouth crashed into his. Not a kiss—an assault, like he wanted to bite the truth back out of them both. Hands yanked at his belt, his jacket shoved halfway down his arms, trapping him.
He barely had time to think before Jacob spun him and pressed him chest-first against the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but not enough to stop the sound that tore from his throat. Jacob’s hands yanked at Liam’s pants, shoving them down in impatient, jerking movements.
Liam braced both hands on the wall, heart hammering. “Here?” he choked out. “Jacob—someone could—”
“I don’t care.”
Liam heard the sound of a zipper and the harsh rustle of more clothes being shoved down.
Then spit—wet and fast—before Jacob’s fingers slid between his cheeks and forced him open with ruthless precision.
Liam hissed, biting his lip. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t meant to be, but his body welcomed it like it had been waiting all night.
“Fuck—” Jacob cursed. "You’re always so ready for me.”
Jacob gave him only the barest stretch of two fingers before they disappeared.
The next instant, Jacob drove into him in one punishing thrust, spit serving as the only lube.
Liam’s forehead hit the wall, a cry breaking free before he could choke it back.
Pain blurred into pleasure in a rush so fast it almost buckled his knees.
“Jesus—Jacob—”
“You think I can go home and touch her after this?” Jacob snarled, breath hot against Liam’s neck. “Like I don’t think about you every fucking second."
Each thrust drove deeper, harder, until Liam’s breath broke with every single one.
Liam’s nails scraped the wall. “You’re still angry.”
“You’re goddamn right I’m angry.”
Another thrust—sharp and vicious.
“You ruined me,” Jacob hissed into Liam’s skin. “You—fucking—ruined me.”
Liam shivered all over as Jacob’s rhythm turned erratic and desperate. His hand slid around Liam’s front, wrapping around his cock in a tight, searing grip, stroking in time with each thrust, like he needed to own every last inch of him.
Liam’s moans grew louder—too loud. The kind of sounds that would be overheard by anyone passing by in the hallway. Jacob slapped a hand over his mouth, stifling the noises before they could escape. The muffled, helpless sounds only seemed to spur him on.
One brutal slam made Liam see stars. His body seized, pleasure tearing through him so violently he bit down on Jacob’s hand as he came. Jacob only growled in his ear and kept moving, fucking him through every pulse as Liam spilled hot and messy over his fist.
Jacob’s pace turned rougher, less controlled, and with a final, deep thrust he groaned into Liam’s shoulder. He felt every hot pulse as Jacob spilled inside him. The sensation left him dizzy, branded from the inside out, every twitch of Jacob’s cock sending another aftershock through him.
Liam let the wall steady him, his cheek pressed to the cold plaster. Jacob’s forehead rested between his shoulder blades, steadying himself against Liam’s back.
Jacob’s hand slipped from his waist, leaving a chill in its absence.
When he withdrew, the truth of where they were—and who waited for them—hit Liam all at once.
Reality crept back in like a cold slap. There was a party.
Music. People who knew them. Wives who trusted them.
He stayed motionless for a breath, then hastily fixed himself with shaking hands, chest tight with guilt.
“Are you okay?” Jacob asked.
Liam almost laughed. He was a fucking disaster. “Fine. You?”
Jacob stepped in, voice rough and quiet. “I wasn’t lying. You did ruin me.”
“Jacob—”
He held up a hand. “Later. I’ll go back first. Wait sixty seconds. Find a bathroom and get cleaned up before going back in.”
Then he was gone, but not before pressing one fast, final kiss to Liam’s lips.