9. Liam
9
LIAM
I can no longer resist her.
She cups me right between the legs as I throb, hard and ready for her. “I want you, inside me. Now.”
She drags me close, grinding her wet core all over me, her hands pulling down my pants at the same time. I squeeze her ass, burning with a need for her. As soon as my clothes are down, my bare cock pushes against her stomach. The feel of my naked flesh grazing hers sends a meteor through my brain.
“I fucking want you, Emma.”
“Yes.” She gasps, spreading her legs wide.
I quickly gather her in my arms and rush to my room. I dump her on the bed, her ass bouncing off the mattress. She beams at me, her eyes wide, lips pursed. I quickly rip through the bedside drawer for a condom and hurriedly slip it on. I can’t wait a second longer. I grab my shaft and climb over her, going straight into her waiting, wet opening.
She growls as my girth stretches her open. I ease in slowly, and then her walls grip me, wet, slippery, and totally amazing. I feel like I just fell into the most amazing paradise.
“Oh, fuck. You feel fucking amazing.” I mumble against her ear, pushing slowly in and out of her. One arm wraps around my neck, and the other hand cradles the back of my head. I feel her hips rise with every thrust, pushing closer, meeting me halfway.
It feels like I’m stuck in a vortex of pleasure, and she’s sucking me in, body and soul. This is exhilarating—in a way I’ve never felt before. It feels like the world has completely stopped, and the only thing I can hear is the sound of my shaft sliding through wet, warm heaven and making squishy sounds.
I know she’s coming when she suddenly growls, her hands pulling my hair hard. She wraps around me so tightly, her muscles pulsating around my cock at the speed of a million beats per minute.
I quickly lose control as well. “Fuck, Emma.”
I feel the orgasm rip through me, and my hips buck uncontrollably as I fuck her as hard and fast as I can, and then I feel myself burst into millions of tiny smithereens of pleasure.
We slowly return to earth. I blink as I feel Emma's chest rise and fall against mine, both of us gasping for breath. I can almost smell the stench of our orgasm in the room. The air is filled with the aftermath of our passion, thick and hot. My hands are still gripping her waist, holding her close, almost afraid to let go. Seconds bleed into minutes, the silence thick with unspoken things and only our breaths.
Then the reality of what just happened starts to sink in, and I can feel her tense up.
A tremor runs through Emma. A mix of panic and post-clarity flickering in her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispers, the words catching in her throat. “What have we done?”
I don’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this any easier. “Emma?”
“Get the hell off me, Liam,” she shrieks, her voice shaking as she pushes away from me, scrambling to sit up. Her hair is tousled, her face flushed, and I can see the panic rising in her eyes.
I reach out, my hand snagging on the sheet tangled around her leg. “Emma, wait!”
She whips back at me, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fear and fury. “Don't touch me! I can't believe I followed you here, Liam. This was a huge mistake!”
“Calm down,” I plead, my voice tight. “Just listen.”
She won't. Her voice rises, laced with hysteria. “Listen? To what? How stupid I've been to fall for your act? How pathetic I am to let you…” Her voice trails off, replaced by a strangled sob.
Frustration bubbles up inside me. “It wasn't an act! And this isn't some grand betrayal, alright? We got carried away.”
“Carried away?” she echoes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Right. That's all it was. Just a little harmless…carry-away, like the kiss that started this whole trouble.”
“Emma?”
“Don’t call me!” All my attempts to reason with her are clearly going to land on even more deaf ears. “Can’t believe I was so stupid.” She bites her lower lip, whispering almost to herself.
A part of me wants to tell her she looks great with the confused look on her face, but I know I’ll regret it if I ever say those words.
“Did you drug me or something?” She wrestles to climb over the side of the bed again, and I pull her back, gathering her into my arms.
“Emma, calm down,” I grunt loudly. “Just listen to me for a second.”
“No, Liam!” She shoves at my chest, but I don’t let go. “I’m mad for even following you here. This… This was insane.”
“We need to talk about this,” I insist. “You can’t just run off.”
She narrows her eyes at me, her frustration boiling over. “Why not? Let me go right now and you can go and tell the whole town that our relationship is a sham. I need this done with immediately.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my own emotions in check. “I’m not going to do that.”
“What?” She freezes, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What do you mean by that? You have to?—”
I put a finger on her lips to shut her up. “I mean,” I mumble, keeping my voice steady, “I won’t be telling anyone that the kiss was a sham or that we’re not dating. Not yet, at least.”
Emma’s face twists in confusion and anger. “Why the hell not?”
“Because I have a proposition for you.”
“Typical!” She cuts me off, her voice rising. “No! Don’t give me some bullshit excuse, Liam. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you wanted to say something that makes sense. Let me g?—”
I grab her by the shoulders, pressing my lips to hers to shut her up. It works. She freezes. Her lips suddenly stop moving, eyes wide, breathless.
“Now you’ll listen?” I ask quickly.
She stares at me with wide eyes without saying a word.
“I need us to keep this up a little while longer. Just until after Damon’s wedding…or until I leave town.”
She blinks, stunned. “Why should I do something so stupid?”
“Two reasons,” I say, taking a deep breath. “One, I’ve never seen my father as happy as he’s been since he started to believe we were dating. I want to keep that up for a bit longer. Two, if he thinks we’re together, he’ll stop trying to set me up with other women.”
Emma stares at me, her mouth slightly open. “You want me to keep pretending so your dad doesn’t play matchmaker?”
“Yes.” I cross my arms and meet her eyes. There’s a slight raise of eyebrow that shows she’s interested. “And because it makes him happy.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not falling for that soapy line. No way. This is too much.”
“Please, Emma,” I look directly into her eyes, my voice almost a whisper.
She blinks, opens her mouth, then closes it again. “No, I’m not doing that.” She immediately pushes me away and rolls off the bed.
“How much do you want? I’ll pay whatever you want.”
She pauses as her legs hang over the edge of the bed, and then she turns around. Her eyes study my face, searching for something. “How important is this to you?”
“It’s really important,” I admit simply, my eyes locked on hers.
She seems to be convinced by what she sees in my eyes. She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Alright. I might consider it, but only if you agree to my conditions.”
Time to play ball. I swallow hard. “What are your conditions?”
She sits back against the headboard, crossing her arms. “First, you keep an open mind about Damon’s wedding. Second, you’ll be my assistant for planning it and make sure all the plans are achieved.”
I pause. She’s asking for the one thing I’m most resistant to. And from the look in her eyes, I can see that she knows it. She’s testing me, pushing the limits.
“Emma, you know I don’t believe in love or marriage. I’m more inclined to stop my friend from making that mistake. Ask for something else.”
“That’s my only requirement,” she announces firmly, crossing her arms and flashing a smug smile.
She’s in control, and she knows it. I grit my teeth, considering her offer. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I nod reluctantly. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“Good.” She nods. Just then, her phone rings, breaking the tension hanging between us. She grabs it, glancing at the screen. “It’s June.” She smiles, swiping at the screen to answer the call. “Hey, June. Yeah, I’m good. No, everything’s okay. Just getting myself ready to start your wedding preparations…and you don’t need to worry about Liam opposing your wedding anymore.”
I watch her as she speaks, the sheets clinging to her chest, her expression softening as she talks to her friend. The attraction I feel for her is undeniable, a magnetic pull that I can’t ignore.
She hangs up and looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to prepare papers for you to sign, by the way.”
A little smile crosses my lips. “You don’t trust me?”
Emma cocks her head to the side. “I’d sooner trust a serpent than you, Liam.”
She gives me a sultry smile and stands up from the bed. The sheets slip down her body, and then she starts pulling on her clothes one after the other. I watch her, dumbfounded as she covers up that body that had me stark raving mad with need just moments ago.
“What are we going to do about this…chemistry between us?” The question slips out from my lips before I can swallow it. I smirk, trying to keep my cool. “Just asking, you know?”
“We’ll see.” She nods, gathers her things, and heads for the door.
I jump up. “Let me drive you.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Townsfolk seeing us together now will complicate things further. The hospital is close, I’ll walk.”
As she walks out, I realize that whatever happens next, this fake relationship just got a lot more complicated. And I’m not entirely sure that’s a bad thing.
The slam of the front door echoes through the house, an emphatic period to the whirlwind of the past hour. I sit rooted in the sheets for a moment. I can still feel the lingering warmth of Emma's body in them as they slide against my skin.
Then I stand up slowly, my feet following the pounding rhythm of my own heart as I walk toward the window. I lean against the window frame, peeking out at the deserted street.
Emma's figure is already walking down the block, her long legs carrying her away from me. A strange thrill of excitement bubbles within me. I made a mistake eighteen months ago.
Naturally, I get bored of my one-night-stand partners by the next morning, and I can’t wait to get away from them, but she was different even then. I didn’t get bored of her, even when I sent her away.
I should’ve understood that we definitely have unfinished business. And now, the universe has given me a chance to get things done properly this time.
I can’t help but follow her with my eyes. She’s got this sexy stride that’s hard to ignore. I watch her as she disappears down the street, the sun casting a golden hue over everything. Our truce is just a temporary arrangement that came with conditions. Am I getting myself into deep trouble with her conditions?
Pushing the thought aside, I force a cynical smile. It's just playing along, a charade extended for the sheer, undeniable pleasure of… Well, let's just say the benefits of our little “carry-away” situation are hard to ignore.
The lingering scent of Emma's perfume, a mix of citrus and something vaguely floral, clings to the air in the room. It's intoxicating, and a part of me rebels at the thought of it fading. Besides, with Dad's hawk-like senses, the slightest hint of her presence won’t go unnoticed. A quick shower seems like the only reasonable course of action.
The hot water cascades down, washing away not just the physical evidence of our encounter, but also trying to wash away the confusion stirring within me. Is this just a twisted form of convenience? A way to avoid the inevitable grilling from Dad about my nonexistent love life? Or is there something more, something I am desperately trying to ignore?
Emerging from the bathroom, a semblance of calm settles over me. Whistling a tuneless rendition of something vaguely popish, I start prepping dinner. Chopping vegetables, sizzling onions, tossing ingredients together—it all becomes a familiar, almost therapeutic routine. Just as I am setting the table, the front door creaks open, and Dad ambles in.
“Liam?” His voice carries the usual hint of surprise, like he isn't entirely expecting me to be home.
“Hey, Dad,” I greet, forcing a smile.
He raises an eyebrow, taking in my suspiciously chipper demeanor. “Looking mighty happy there, son. Did you two lovebirds work things out?”
Lovebirds? I choke back a laugh. “Yeah, something like that,” I mumble, pouring myself a glass of water.
We settle at the table, the aroma of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables filling the air. Dad takes a bite of his food, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “This is good, son. You're turning into quite the chef.”
Between mouthfuls, he launches into a story about work, a never-ending saga of office politics and looming deadlines. I tune him out mostly, my mind replaying the events of the evening. Then, his question brings me back to the present.
“So, how did you figure it out, Liam?” he asks, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “How'd you know Emma was the one?”
I blink, momentarily confused. “The…one?”
“The one you love, of course,” he chuckles, gesturing with his fork. “Come on, son, don't be coy with your old man.”
Love? I almost choke on my food. “Dad, I never said anything about love,” I manage, trying to sound calm. “We're just…in a relationship.”
He shakes his head, his smile widening. “Ah, young love. Always so dramatic. But don't worry, son. It goes away eventually. Just like the denial stage of grief.”
“Grief, Dad?” I furrow my brow. “What are you on about?”
He sets his fork down, a serious expression replacing his jovial one. “Grief, Liam. The five stages. You know, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.”
“Yeah, I know the stages,” I mutter, still confused. “But why are you bringing it up now?”
“Because it mimics falling in love so closely,” he explains, his voice gentle. “You deny your feelings at first, then you get angry when those feelings get in the way of logic. It's a roller coaster, Liam.”
“Whoa, hang on. I told you we aren’t in love.”
Dad shakes his head, a wide smile spreading across his face. He stands up, gathering the plates. “Alright, dishes tonight are on me. You did the dinner, so it's only fair.”
I scramble up, ready to take the plates from him. “No way, Dad, I can handle it.”
He waves me off, a glint in his eye. “Nonsense. You go grab two cans of beer and wait for me on the porch. We can catch the sunset.”
I sigh, knowing better than to argue with him when he’s made up his mind. I head to the fridge, and my fingers close around two beers that have condensation already forming a frosty sheen on the cans.
I step outside onto the porch. The last rays of the setting sun cast long shadows across the backyard. Dad comes out moments later and settles in a rocking chair, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he gazes at the fiery sky.
I hand him a beer, silence stretching comfortably between us. His words echo in my mind. Denial. Is that what I am feeling? No way. I shake my head. What I feel for Emma is an undeniable attraction and I’ve accepted that.
As much as I’ve accepted the nerve-racking reality that I’ll have to spend the next few days planning a wedding with Emma. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. It is going to be torture, pure and simple. I know she’s going to wring out every bit of me in the process and, beneath the apprehension, a tiny spark of something else flickers. Intrigue? Excitement?
The thought of spending more time with Emma, of getting to know her better, is undeniably appealing. Of course, that must be because I’ll have more chance to make love to her and get this attraction for her out of my system.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dad's voice breaks the silence, his tone gentle.
“Huh?” I look up to see the last sliver of sun dip below the horizon. The sky is ablaze with color, a breathtaking display of orange, pink, and purple hues. Taking a swig of beer, I nod. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”
“What are you thinking about, son?”
I shrug, taking another sip of beer. “Just…stuff.”
He chuckles knowingly. “A difficult one to voice, huh?” He pauses for a moment, then adds, “You know, Liam, the older you get, the more you realize life isn't always black and white. Sometimes, the best things in life come in shades of gray.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing in particular.” He smiles. “Just keep that in mind.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Is he talking about me and Emma? About the complicated mess that is my relationship with Emma? Or is he really just talking about life in general, the messy, unpredictable journey that it is?
I don’t need to understand what he means. No one knows me better than myself, and I know there’s no way in hell I feel anything more than attraction for the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met.
True, she’s also the most captivating woman I’ve ever met, but that’s just temporary.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on the stars that are beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky as I sip my beer. One thing I know for sure is things are about to get a whole lot more complicated.
For the first time, I am not sure if I should be scared or excited.