Chapter 31
thirty-one
you’re my witness, Harold
Maya
“Harold, what on earth are you doing? What is happening right now?” I stared open-mouthed as my antisocial devil cat plodded across the couch, dropped onto Liam’s lap, and rolled over for belly scratches like some kind of lapdog. Narrowing my eyes, I hissed, “Traitor.”
Liam chuckled, rubbing Harold’s fuzzy stomach while the orange turncoat purred like a rusty chainsaw. “Maybe he’s trying to protect me from your murderous intentions. I can’t help it if he likes me better, Pipsqueak.”
“Maybe he should spend less time protecting you and more time reminding you not to call me Pipsqueak, so I wouldn’t have to keep plotting your untimely demise.”
Liam bent to Harold’s ear and stage-whispered, “You’re my witness, Harold. She’s copping to the death threats. Do you see what I put up with?” He scrubbed an affectionate hand over Harold’s head before easing him onto the floor.
“Oh, hush.” I handed Liam a bowl of cheese balls and dropped onto the couch beside him. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love my death threats.”
After the book club meeting, Liam and I went our separate ways after agreeing to make dinner for Nana together once I closed the store. Now that Nana was in bed for the night, we were getting ready to have another Alan Rickman movie date.
And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a repeat of what happened after our last movie date.
Orgasms were infinitely better when someone else was providing them.
Plus, after my last encounter with the monster in Liam’s pants, I really couldn’t wait to get better acquainted.
My life the first few years after high school wasn’t conducive to dating, but now that I’d found a man I liked, I planned to make up for lost time.
As I queued up the movie, Liam pushed my hair aside and ran his nose along the column of my throat, sending shivers down my spine. My core throbbed in response.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded if we’d skipped the movie altogether and moved this date straight to the bedroom.
“You’re right about that,” he murmured, punctuating it with a kiss on my throat before leaning back. “I can’t resist your brand of crazy.”
“What?” Huffing a laugh, I smacked him lightly on the arm. Way to ruin the moment. “I’m not crazy.”
“I’m kidding, Pipsqueak.” He grinned. “Come on, let’s start this Rickman movie before my horrible attempts at humour prompt you to act on one of your death threats.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
“I was thinking,” he mused, “you might be onto something with this Alan Rickman thing. His voice is very soothing. How did you figure that out? Some of his movies came out decades before you were born.”
Memories crashed into me without warning.
Images of me curled up in the backseat of my car, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me as I clutched the old CD player with the cracked lid.
Alan Rickman’s warm and steady voice poured from my headphones, dampening the strange noises of the night enough that I fell into a fitful sleep.
I didn’t want to tell him.
I couldn’t tell him.
He’d see me differently when he found out, and I didn’t think I could survive that.
“I just came across him one day,” I finally said, leaving out all the important details while forcing what I hoped was a casual shrug. “Been a fan ever since.”
Liam hummed, pulling me closer. “Well, I’m glad you found him, because it gives me a reason to sit close to you while we watch these movies.” His lips brushed my temple, and warmth spread through me, steady and comforting.
I don’t know why, but Liam’s relaxed attitude put me at ease. I wasn’t quite comfortable enough to explain my Rickman obsession, but I was comfortable.
“So, which one are we watching tonight?”
I grinned. “Well, it’s a little late, since the holidays are long over, but tonight we’ll be enjoying the Christmas classic Die Hard.”
He pulled back, blinking at me.
“I know, I know.” I rushed on, amused. “You said you didn’t want to watch Love, Actually because it’s a Christmas movie, but trust me—Die Hard is a Christmas movie that’s great any time of the year.”
“You’re serious?” His voice dripped with pure disbelief. “I read about that when I was researching Alan Rickman movies, but I still don’t understand how something called Die Hard could be festive.”
I chuckled. “Well, some people say it’s not a Christmas movie, but those people are what I like to call wrong.”
Liam barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Sounds like you have some strong opinions about this.”
“You will too by the end of it.” I pressed play and snuggled into his chest. “And just so you know, if you don’t think it’s a Christmas movie, then you’re also wrong.”
He pressed another kiss to my temple, and my heart tripped over itself. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Get ready to be blown away.”
The movie played, but it barely registered. I found myself shifting toward Liam, my body drawn to his warmth like a magnet. My hand slid over his stomach as I burrowed closer. But it was like I couldn’t get close enough.
Sensing my struggle, Liam gripped my waist and dragged me onto his lap, seating me sideways across his thighs before wrapping his arms around me.
Okay. Yeah. This was perfect.
“Better?” he murmured, his lips brushing my cheek, his voice low and knowing.
I tilted my head closer, inviting more kisses. Snuggling with him felt … amazing. Better than amazing. Spectacular. His fingers drifted into my hair, massaging my scalp. A shiver raced through me, a slow, electric heat pooling low in my belly.
My eyelids fluttered shut.
A yawn slipped free as I drifted.
It would be fine if … rested my eyes … for a few minutes.
I woke to the sensation of my blankets dragging across my skin.
“Wh-What’s happening?” I blinked up at Liam, confused to be in my bedroom. He stood beside the bed, tucking me in.
Wait. What?
I fought to push back the blankets as I struggled to sit up. “I’m awake. Let’s finish the movie.”
Liam chuckled. “I did,” he said. “And you’re right. It is a Christmas movie. Barely. But it takes place at Christmas, so that’s enough for me.” He smirked. “Not sure that Alan Rickman lives up to your hype in this one, though. He’s the bad guy, Maya. How relaxing can that be?”
I groaned. “I missed the whole thing?”
“You fell asleep before McClane made it to Nakatomi Plaza. You missed Alan Rickman entirely.”
“So … you’re leaving?”
I was instantly wide awake. And positive that leaving was the last thing I wanted him to do.
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to head out. Unless … do you want me to stay?”
“Yes,” I blurted out before he finished asking the question. Heat rushed up my neck. “I mean … yes. You could stay. If you wanted.”
“Oh, Maya,” he murmured, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Yes, I very much do want to stay.”
My stomach flipped, and I swallowed roughly.
When he flicked open the button of his jeans and pushed them off his hips, revealing the barely contained erection straining beneath his black boxer briefs, my panties flooded with warmth.
A low moan escaped my throat as he lowered himself on top of me, trapping me beneath him. His knees and elbows boxed me in, and he lowered his lips to mine.
His kiss was soft. Teasing. But I wanted more. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in. When I caressed his tongue with mine, he groaned—a deep, desperate sound that rumbled all the way to my toes.
Liam tangled his hands in my hair and shifted to my side, all without breaking the kiss.
The heat of the blankets was suffocating against my already sensitive skin, so I shoved them away and climbed on top of Liam. Straddling his hips, I settled onto his hard length. I rocked my hips, and his groan matched my own.
“Jesus, Maya.”
He slid his hands under my shirt, pushing it up, but he moved too slowly. Frustrated, I yanked it off with frantic movements, needing his touch everywhere.
“You are so beautiful.” His darkened gaze raked over me, his eyes blazing a trail across every inch of my exposed skin before locking onto mine. “So goddamn beautiful.”
A blush climbed up my cheeks at his compliment. Scoffing, I turned away.
He bolted upright, grabbing my face in his hands and forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Maya. Everything about you is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
My stomach flip-flopped with giddy excitement. But could I trust it? I didn’t really know what it was like to be wanted. Hell, my own parents didn’t want me around. Why would Liam want me? I’d already been thrown away once.
But how amazing would it be if he were serious? If, for once, someone wanted me—not for what I could do for them, not for the help I could provide, but simply because of me?
He must have sensed the emotions swirling inside me because he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Nothing,” I said, injecting cheer into my voice.
“I guess it’s hard to believe that someone who looks like you could think someone who looks like me is beautiful.
” His brow furrowed, so I rushed to add, “I mean, I know I’m not hideous or anything, but you’re on another level.
You’re like what would happen if Keanu Reeves and Chris Hemsworth and-and-and—what’s the name of that actor who plays Reacher on the TV show?
” I snap my fingers when it hits me. “Alan Ritchson! That’s his name—not to be confused with Alan Rickman, but I digress.
It’s like if Keanu Reeves, Chris Hemsworth, and Alan Ritchson had a three-way that somehow resulted in a man composed solely of their most attractive qualities.
I’m not sure if you know this, but you’re like, inhumanly attractive.
It’s not natural, quite frankly. It’s like scientists made you in a lab. ”
That did the trick. The tension broke as Liam barked out a laugh. My grin widened as I chuckled along with him.
“Well,” he said when he’d finally stopped laughing, “I suppose it’s nice to know you feel the same way about me as I feel about you.
” He paused, searching my face before shaking his head.
“But I don’t think I could come up with three women whose traits you embody, because the moment I laid eyes on you, every other woman ceased to exist. You’re beautiful because no one else is like you.
” My breath caught, but he wasn’t done. “It was your eyes that got me first, you know.” He tilted my face, kissing each of my eyelids, his voice dipping into a whisper.
“Despite the daggers you were glaring at me that day, I damn near melted when I looked into them.”
Oh, sweet Jesus I was the one melting now.
His palms skimmed my sides, setting off a cascade of sparks in their wake. They glided around my back, where he deftly unhooked my bra. He slipped the straps down my arms and dropped it on the floor, leaving me exposed.
“I’m already half-naked on your lap, you know.” I teased, my voice shaky. “You don’t need to keep laying it on so thick. I’m pretty much a sure thing at this point.”
He smirked. “I’m not trying to lay it on thick, Pipsqueak. I’m making sure you know how gorgeous I think you are.”
I choked back a laugh. “That’s it. You’re in trouble now.” I pushed him back until his head rested on the pillow. “How many times have I told you not to call me Pipsqueak?”
Liam grinned up at me, amused as I straddled him again. He pulled me closer, dragging me over the full length of his arousal.
“Maybe I’ll have to tease you to death?” I muse, rolling my hips against him. He groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow, his neck straining as he tried to control himself.
He was completely at my mercy. And I loved every second.
“Jesus, Maya.” His voice came out thick with desire. “That’s too good.”
I chuckled and rocked against him once more, loving the sharp bite of pain when his fingers dug into my hips. “That’s the point.” I rocked again, gasping as a shock of bliss pulsed through me. “I’m teasing you to death, remember?”
He huffed a laugh that I transformed into a throaty moan with another roll of my hips.
“Well,” he growled, his grip tightening on my hips, “if I’m about to die, allow me to give you the best orgasm of your life first. That way, you’ll remember me when I’m gone.”
Before I could respond, Liam flipped us, pinning me to the bed. His weight, his heat, his hunger. I wanted more.
His gaze locked on mine, dark and certain. “And if I can’t make you fall in love with me”—he brushed a strand of hair from my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my lips—“I suppose making you come will have to do.”