Twenty-Nine
Sara
Iclose the bedroom’s door behind me and turn to lay my forehead against it and breathe. In and out. Repeat.
Just when I’m finally leaning into him, no pun intended, I end up feeling as rejected as an opossum in a cherished yard. I’m drained. I’m furious. Joe was supposed to be my future until fate ripped him away, like everyone else in my life. God, it's like someone keeps carving out pieces of me
Perhaps it’s possible I may have misread the situation with Liam just now. And maybe I want to misunderstand him, because understanding so clearly that he wants me, would only push me to admit, I want him too. So, badly.
Everything he said and opened up about still lingers in my chest and weighs heavily, it’s hard to breathe. I want to believe them. Nothing about them sounds like a lie, but I’m so terrified they might be a blessing one second, and the next it’s gone.
I unglue my forehead from the door, take a few steps back with my eyes closed, and let my body slump for much-needed sleep.
Thud.
“Ouch!” The impact of the floor catching my exhausted body is shocking, to say the least.
“What the fuck, Liam?” I scream and look over my shoulder to see that the bed has evaporated.
What in the world…?
I fantasize about strangling him, as if my small hands could even reach around that thick neck of his.
As if I could overpower someone who towers over me like he does.
As if I could really wish harm upon him, as if I could sustain being without him.
I can barely think of anything else than him, and it hurts to attempt anything else.
This could go wrong in a thousand ways, but I’m desperate… I’m desperate for a love he’s promising that I've never had the chance to experience. A hollow ache spreads through my chest, I can deny it all I want, but the truth is I want him so much, and maybe it's finally time to admit it.
His words shift inside me like a soft caress, 'Everyone is afraid of something. It’s what determines what we value the most and risks we are willing to take.'
I haven’t risked everything yet. I’m just… scared. Unable to fully live after losing more than most, yet somehow more afraid than anyone to lose again.
I swing the door open and take no more than one step, ready to confront him,
"Where. Is. My. Bed?” I hiss, so angry with him and his games.
And then, a few steps from the couch to taking the air out of my lungs, he’s standing over me. So close, so terribly handsome. He looks at me with those eyes, and I want to smack the grin off his face.
“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he asks, holding in a laugh.
“What do you think, genius?” I retort, biting my words, probably looking like a crazy person right now, but it’s been a long day and I’m feeling too many things at once to hide any of it any longer.
“I think you crashed into my universe.” He lets out a laugh. He’s not humoring me in the least, and I do my best to keep a stoic face. He catches my demeanor and rectifies.
“No, for real, did it hurt? Are you okay?”
“Yes, it did!” I rub my butt that was welcomed by the ground because this idiot took my bed away.
He watches my hand rubbing my dress and something flickers in his eyes.
“What happened?” he asks, his voice sultrily concerned taking a step closer to me as my back hits the door frame.
“I sat down on a literal air mattress, but you already knew that.” I explain, crossing my arms, and I watch him do something he's never done before, something so rare it belongs inside a scientific lab, preserved under glass.
Liam's head lolls back, exposing the strong column of his throat.
His Adam's apple bobs as the most perfect, genuine laugh I've ever heard tumbles from his lips.
His eyes, usually cold as winter frost, crinkle at the corners, those impossibly long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones.
Tiny dimples I've never noticed appear at the edges of his mouth.
My ovaries are on fire.
He’s radically stunning in this unguarded moment. I want to capture that sound in a velvet-lined box, lock it away, and carve each vibration into my memory.
This is betrayal if I ever saw one. Darn him.
His expression shifts as he catches me staring, probably lust written all over my face that I can’t contain. In one fluid motion, he steps into me, his chest pressing into mine, and a sharp sting of his palm smacks against my ass, making me gasp in pain.
“What the—What was that for?” My voice is high as I reach back to soothe the burning skin. His hand stays there, claiming me, squeezing me.
“A fresh pain to replace the old one,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. His eyes lock with mine, something dangerous swimming in their depths.
“I see right through you. You crave what I take from you.”
The air between us changes, and Liam transforms before my eyes into that primal version of himself I've always known. He engulfs me, and I freeze, caught between flight and surrender.
“Run,” he commands, his lips nearly brushing mine.
My feet obey and I run as fast as I can.
I fly down the hallway, heart hammering against my ribs.
The sound of Liam's footsteps echo behind me, each heavy thud a reminder that I'm not getting away that easily.
My hands fumble with the doorknob at the end of the hall, twisting desperately until it gives.
I burst outside, silver moonlight bathes the backyard, casting long shadows across the grass and surrounding flowers.
I gulp in oxygen, my lungs burning from the sprint and what feels dangerously like desire.
I need therapy, and he’s the only therapy I want.
“Sara!” Liam's voice booms from the doorway behind me. “Don't think for a second I'm letting you go.”
His words wrap around me like a physical touch. I’m halfway across the yard caught between contradicting instincts and a giggle. I halt my sprint, standing and spinning around as my hair flies, and wait for him.
“I'm not running anymore,” I shout, my voice surprisingly steady as I plant my feet firmly. The cold air mixed with consuming adrenaline, makes me shiver. “Come get what you're after.”
Liam halts, his massive frame silhouetted in the doorway. For once, I've caught him off guard. The predatory gleam in his eyes flicker, and he’s right, I love it.
“What exactly do you think I'm after, Sara?” His voice is dangerously soft, coiled with tension that could cut through me.
“Me,” I say, taking a step toward him.
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Oh yes, Sara, I fucking want you. I made that very clear already, but I’m not the one terrified of that.”
“You’re the one who pulled away earlier!” I call out with more shame than I’d care to admit.
“I didn’t pull away because I didn’t want you, Sara! Fuck!” He grips his hair, his body tensing, as he takes a few more steps toward me. “I pulled away because I want you too fucking much, but you’re too blinded by your fear of being abandoned that you leave before anyone else can!”
The accusation hits like a physical blow. “That's not fair.”
He closes the distance between us with predatory grace and towers over me lifting my chin.
“Sara, we’re done pushing one another away. This stops now. Tell me what you want. Tell me you understand that when I have you, there is nowhere you will ever go where you don't belong to me,” he demands through gritted teeth, his voice rough with self-control.
“You know what I want.”
“Fucking say it. I need to hear you say it. I'm not going anywhere, Sara, I’m here. Don’t be afraid to take what belongs to you.”
His words take my breath away. His fingers rough against my chin while his other hand runs through my hair, gripping around my neck like a plea.
His breath hot inches away from my lips, sending a pool of heat between my thighs.
Take what belongs to you.
“I want you!” I cry out, the words breaking free. “I want to belong to you! I should hate you, but all I want is…you.”
His eyes narrow on me with dark desire, and his control snaps.
His mouth crashes against mine with such force I stumble backward as his arms wrap around my waist to steady me, and the relief from it is utterly staggering. We’re both desperate, hungry, a storm that's been building between us and finally raining over us.
His tongue slides against mine, and I moan into his mouth, finally succumbing to my need to be close to him that is not reducible even if I tried. I can no longer fight it. I need him too badly. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him gasp on my lips.
His hands are everywhere sliding under my dress, gripping my ass, pressing me against the hardness of him, and I can't get close enough, can't feel enough of him against me until I have all of him. We’re like two wild animals acting on pure instinct.
The next thing I know, my back hits the grass as he supports my head to protect it from our sudden dive.
Frantically clawing at his shirt to remove it, and with one hand reaching at his back, he lifts his shirt off over his head.
My mouth goes completely dry at his muscular tattooed chest over me, and the brief separation from his body is agonizing as his eyes never leave mine, pleading for me to stay, to stop running.
Without words, I answer him in the only way I know how, and I kiss him reverently, pouring into every brush of my lips that I'm not going anywhere. He’s connected to me in ways I have never felt before and prayed at night for.
I thought it’d go away. I thought it was grief, loneliness, but it was none of these things…
it’s simply and complicatedly him, with all of what he is and represents.
Needing someone at a soul level like this can break you, no matter how much healing it can bring.
The uncertainty of shedding our walls made of glass is poignantly frightening, but I’m willing to suffer, to lose my breath, to cry my pain away in his arms, over his heart, if it can wreck us and make us feel again.