Chapter 20
Avery
I'm at the bar getting a refill on my champagne when I spot Jennifer across the room. She's in a Cleopatra costume, talking animatedly with someone I don't recognize. Our eyes meet briefly, and I freeze.
Does she recognize me? Did she see me dancing with Liam?
But she just smiles before returning to her conversation. I exhale slowly. She doesn't. Liam and I were just two costumed strangers dancing at a party.
Still, my heart is racing as I take my drink and move toward the balcony, needing air. I'm standing there, looking out at the city lights, when I hear a voice behind me.
“Pardon me, my lady.”
I turn to find my pirate standing there with exaggerated formality. He removes his hat and bows deeply.
“The carriage awaits to convey you safely to your residence,” he says in the most ridiculous Victorian accent I've ever heard. “It would be most improper for a lady of your station to traverse the city streets unescorted at this late hour.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
He puts his hat back on with flourish. “The driver has been instructed to await your convenience. Good evening, my lady.”
And then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd.
I wait exactly five minutes before making my excuses to Harper and heading for the elevator. My heart pounds the entire way down, excited to finally be alone with Liam.
As fun as the party was, anticipation coils tight in my stomach.
My body is thrumming with need, hyperaware of long it’s been since he last touched me. Since Chicago, it's like a monster has been awoken. I'm insatiable. I want his hands, his mouth, his body. I want everything, and I want it now.
Hudson is parked outside the building, and the moment I step onto the sidewalk, Liam opens the back door from inside.
“My lady,” he says as I slide in, his Victorian accent even more exaggerated than before. “I trust you found the evening's festivities most agreeable?”
I laugh then get into character. “Most agreeable indeed, good sir. Though I confess myself quite fatigued from such exertions.”
He scoots in then shuts the door with a sigh. “One must take great care to preserve one's delicate sensibilities.”
“My sensibilities are perfectly robust, I assure you.”
“Ah, but a lady must maintain the appearance of fragility, must she not? Lest the gentlemen of society find her too formidable.”
I turn to face him fully, fighting back laughter. “And what if a lady does not care for the opinions of gentlemen?”
“Then she is a most revolutionary creature.” His lips twitch. “One might even call her dangerous.”
“Dangerous? I am shocked, sir. Shocked and appalled at such an accusation.”
“My most humble apologies, my lady. I merely meant to suggest that a woman of independent thought and action might prove unsettling to those of more conventional disposition.”
“And are you of conventional disposition, sir?”
“Not in the slightest.” He leans closer, his voice dropping. “I find myself most drawn to revolutionary creatures.”
We maintain the act all the way to my apartment building, our conversation growing increasingly ridiculous. By the time Hudson pulls up, we're both struggling not to break character.
Liam exits first and offers his hand with elaborate courtesy. “Allow me to assist you, my lady.”
I take his hand, gathering my enormous skirts. “You are too kind, sir.”
He doesn't release my hand as we walk toward the building. When we reach the door, I turn to him with mock surprise.
“Sir, surely you do not intend to accompany me further?”
“I must ensure you reach your residence safely.” His expression is deadly serious despite the absurdity of our conversation. “There are scoundrels and ruffians about. A gentleman cannot in good conscience leave a lady unprotected.”
“But sir, what will people say?”
“Let them say what they will. Your safety is paramount.”
I press my hand to my chest in exaggerated gratitude. “You are too kind. Too noble. How shall I ever repay such chivalrous attention?”
We take the elevator up and when we reach my door, I unlock it and turn to face him.
“I am home safely, thanks to your gallant protection. How can I possibly show my gratitude?”
He steps inside. “Perhaps you might allow me to ensure no danger lurks within your chambers?”
“Oh!” I press my hand to my throat. “You believe there may be threats within my own home?”
“One can never be too cautious, my lady. Permit me to inspect the premises.”
He makes a grand show of checking my living room, peering behind furniture and into corners. “The parlor appears secure. But what of your sleeping quarters? Surely that is where the greatest danger might hide.”
“Sir,” I gasp. “You suggest entering my bedchamber? That would be most improper.”
“Propriety must yield to safety, my lady.” He offers his arm, chin held high. “I insist.”
I take his arm, and we proceed down the hallway to my bedroom with all the seriousness of a royal procession. Once inside, Liam makes another elaborate show of checking the space.
“The room appears secure,” he announces finally. “Though I confess some concern about your ability to prepare for rest without assistance.”
“I assure you, I am quite capable of preparing for bed.” My voice comes out breathless, betraying how much I want his hands on me.
“Nonsense. These modern fashions are far too complex for a lady to navigate alone.” He gestures to my elaborate costume. “It would be most ungentlemanly of me to leave you to struggle.”
“You propose to help me undress?” I make my voice scandalized, even as heat pools low in my stomach at the thought.
“Merely to ensure your comfort and safety, my lady. I am a gentleman of honor.”
The corner of my mouth twitches with a smile. “Of course. Your intentions are purely honorable.”
“The most honorable.” He moves behind me, his fingers finding the laces of my bodice. “I shall close my eyes to preserve your modesty.”
“You're going to unlace my dress with your eyes closed?” My skin tingles everywhere he's not touching yet.
“I am a man of many talents, my lady.”
I start laughing then, but it comes out shaky, unable to fully maintain the act when I want him this badly.
The bodice loosens, and I shrug out of it. The elaborate skirts follow, pooling on the floor in a mountain of fabric. My unhistorical lacy panties are soaking wet.
“Well,” Liam says. “This is most irregular.”
“What is?”
“I do not recall ladies of the Victorian era wearing such undergarments.”
“Perhaps you've been reading the wrong history books.”
“Perhaps I have.” He's still behind me, his hands settling on my waist. “Tell me, my lady, what other historical inaccuracies might I discover?”
I turn in his arms, and the desire in his eyes steals my breath. I reach up to remove his hat and eye patch, letting my fingers linger against his jaw. “Why don't we find out?”
The kiss starts slow, both of us still half-laughing from our ridiculous Victorian role play. But it deepens quickly, his hands sliding up my back, my fingers threading through his hair.
“Your intentions,” I murmur against his mouth. “Are they still honorable?”
“Completely dishonorable,” he says, walking me backward toward the bed. “Scandalously so.”
“Good.”
He walks me backward until my legs hit the mattress, and I fall onto the bed, pulling him down with me. The last remnants of laughter die in my throat, replaced by a raw, aching need. Our kiss turns frantic, all playful pretense gone, replaced by burning desire.
“I need you,” I gasp, my hands scrambling at the buttons of his shirt. “Now, Liam.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He shrugs out of his pirate shirt, his chest a beautiful, solid warmth against me. His mouth finds my neck, sucking a mark that makes me cry out, my back arching off the bed.
He moves down, his tongue tracing the lace edge of my bra before he pulls the fabric down and takes my nipple into his mouth. The sensation is so sharp, so perfect, that I fist my hands in his hair, holding him to me.
“Off,” I beg, tugging at my panties. “Everything, off.”
He quickly pulls down his boxers and he’s completely naked. Liam’s body is a glorious, lean muscle above me, his erection pressing against my thigh. The sight of him, wanting me this much, steals my breath.
But then he shifts, his hands on my hips, turning me over. “On your knees, love,” he says in a low commanding voice.
I go on all fours, resting my upper body on the mattress, presenting myself to him.
“God, Avery,” Liam groans, his hands smoothing over the curves of my ass. “This ass is fucking perfection. I dream about it.”
He positions himself behind me, the head of his cock nudging against my entrance. I’m so wet, so ready for him, that the first push is a shock of pure pleasure.
“So tight,” he grits out, his hands gripping my hips as he sinks into me, filling me completely in one slow, deep stroke. “Jesus, you’re so wet for me.”
A broken moan tears from my throat as I adjust to the feel of him. He sets a rhythm that is relentless from the start, each thrust hitting a spot that makes me see stars.
The sound of our bodies meeting is loud in the quiet room, mingling with my desperate cries and his guttural groans.
“That’s it, baby,” he says, one hand sliding from my hip to the junction of my thighs, his fingers finding my clit.
The dual sensation is too much. The deep, filling thrusts and the clever circles of his fingers push me higher and higher, my orgasm coiling tight and then shattering without warning.
I scream his name, my body convulsing around his as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me.
He follows me over the edge a minute later, driving into me one last, deep time, his own cry muffled against my shoulder as he spills himself inside me, his body shuddering with the force of his release.
We collapse together onto the sheets, breathing raggedly. Then, a giggle bubbles up in my chest, turning into full-blown laughter.
Liam shifts beside me, his hand stroking my damp back. “What is it?”
I roll onto my side to face him, still catching my breath. “I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” I shake my head, a wide, silly grin on my face. “I had no idea what a turn-on that whole ridiculous role-play thing would be.”
A smile spreads across his face. He leans in and kisses my shoulder. “Yeah? Well, in that case…” His eyes glint with mischief. “Maybe next time, I can be the doctor and you can be the nurse.”
I laugh again, swatting his chest, but the idea sends a fresh, thrilling jolt straight through my spent body.
We're quiet for a moment, and then Liam speaks. “We have a game in Toronto on Sunday.”
“I know.”
“Come with me.”
I lift my head to look at him, anxiety coming over me. The thought of being in a foreign city with Liam is so tempting.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Liam says. “It won't be suspicious. Jennifer will think you're keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don't do anything stupid on the road.”
“That's actually not a terrible cover story.”
“See? I can be smart sometimes.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Plus, we could stay an extra day and have some actual time alone.”
I inhale deeply. A whole day where we don't have to hide, where we can just be together without worrying about who might see us.
“That's incredibly risky,” I say, there’s weakness in my voice.
“I know. But I want it anyway. I want you anyway.” His hand cups my face. “Please?”
Fuck it. I’m going to live, for once. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Liam says in a disbelieving tone.
“Yeah. But we need to be careful. Very careful.”
“I can do careful.” He kisses me. “For you, I can do anything.”
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while longer. Then I remember something. “Did you decide which puppies you're keeping?”
He groans. “No. I can't decide. Every time I think I've made a choice, one of them does something cute and I change my mind.”
“You're keeping two, Liam. We agreed.”
“I know.” He looks genuinely distressed. “How am I supposed to choose? They're all perfect.”
I laugh at how cute he looks. “After the game, we'll go to your place and decide together. Deal?”
“Deal.” He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Stay tonight?”
“I am in my own apartment,” I point out.
“You know what I mean. Don't kick me out.”
I should. I have work in the morning, and sleeping next to him is just asking for trouble. But I'm tired and comfortable and he's warm and solid beside me.
“Okay,” I whisper. “You can stay.”
He grins. “Best news I've heard all week.”
I fall asleep in his arms, and for once, I don't let myself worry about tomorrow. I don't plan or strategize or think about consequences.
For once, I just let myself be happy.
Even if I'm falling in love with a man who might break my heart.