Chapter Thirty-Six
Calypso
My blood is still pumping, looking for a fight.
It feels even better knowing that Liam will let me have it right back.
He wasn’t even angry with me, at least not until I insinuated he doesn’t really care about me.
It was infuriating that he stood there so pacifying; I wanted him to break. Just for a second.
God, I could have kept going, too.
He’s as good at calming me down as he is at firing me up.
As we walk through the door, I messily drop my heels on the wood floor. Liam hates that.
He’s never said it because he never gets on me for being less tidy than him. He’s always just cleaning up when something bothers him.
Liam sighs, realizing I did it to piss him off. I hear him pick them up and set them on the little bench in the foyer.
“So, we’re still fighting?” he asks.
I fill up my glass of water and turn toward him. “A kiss isn’t a resolution. You can’t use it to shut me up.”
He rolls his eyes and I think I’m really getting to him now.
Good.
“Alright. What’s your response, then?”
My brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
“You wanted to know how I feel about you. How crazy I am about you.”
I tilt my head back and forth, acting like a brat. “You said I ‘make’ you crazy, actually.”
“Oh,” he muses, ignoring my comment. “You remember the moment in your room then.”
“Of course I do,” I spit out.
“Then. What. Do. You. Say?” he asks again, truly losing patience now. “Are you crazy about me, Calypso? Or do I just ‘make you crazy’?”
I bite my lip, unsure of what to say.
I know what I want to say and what I should say.
Deciding on the latter, I tell him, “I can’t give you what you want—I won’t.”
He walks closer until my back hits the counter and his arms cage me. He doesn’t touch me, though. Selfishly, I wish he would despite every cruel word I’ve thrown at him all night.
“What is it that you think I want?” he asks in a deadly voice. “A wedding? Kids and a picket fence?”
“I—yes,” I say, suddenly doubtful. I’ve seen him with Jake and Matty—hell, even Grady’s girls love him.
“You’re wrong,” he says simply. “What other assumptions have you made about me?”
I open my mouth but before I can respond, he adds, “Which we agreed not to do early on. But let’s hear them.”
Shame washes over me.
I hated when he joked about how I wouldn’t have listened to a certain type of music while I was in ballet. It was more than his assumption. It’s something I’ve dealt with my whole life, but still.
“You wouldn’t have asked someone to marry you if you didn’t want to,” I accuse. “So it’s easy to assume—”
He scoffs at the word, and I flush but push forward.
“—To assume that when your ex ‘changed her mind,’ it was about those things.”
He laughs, but it’s bitter and dark. “She did change her mind on those things.” I scowl but he continues, “When we first got together, we talked about living in the city, about our careers and what we wanted from life. Marriage was never on the table until Hannah wanted that. And I thought, ‘We’d be together anyway. So, sure, I can do this for her.’ It’s a normal thing to want that commitment. ”
I’m vibrating with anticipation. We don’t talk about these things, and it’s solely my fault.
“A wedding turned into wanting to move to the suburbs instead of downtown. Hannah started mentioning which ones had good schools or accessible childcare. It was never just a wedding, Calypso. And you know what? I want Hannah to have all of those things. She recently got engaged to another man, and I’m happy for her.
Because I wouldn’t give her those things. ”
Not that he couldn’t—he wouldn’t.
He caught that.
“Oh… I didn’t—I thought you…” I say, grasping for words that are just out of reach.
“Don’t tell me what I want,” he says in a low tone. “And don’t assume you aren’t everything I fucking need, honey.”
I close my eyes and hold back a whimper at the endearment. I don’t want to lose Liam.
I’m pushing and pushing and pushing, but it’s not what I want.
When I open my eyes, I look up at him. “Stefan wanted kids,” I say quietly.
He watches me. “And you didn’t.”
I shake my head. “I’ve never wanted children. Stefan said he was fine with that, but he lied. He lied about so many things.”
His mind is racing, but I doubt Liam—so protective and supportive—could even conjure what I’m about to tell him. This is easily the worst thing Stefan’s ever done, probably to anyone.
It’s not the first time I’ve said these words, but they feel more weighted than ever before.
“You want to know why I asked Stefan for a divorce?” I say in a dead voice.
“Because he purposely ‘scheduled’ his vasectomy appointment for the week I went to a surf competition with my siblings to support Asher. I should’ve known something was wrong—he never wanted me away from him for too long.
That time, he practically pushed me out the door. ”
Liam’s quiet but seething.
“He had finally agreed that we wouldn’t have children. A few months after the ‘procedure,’ I got off birth control. I even remember thinking to myself that maybe we could make this work, after all. Maybe I wasn’t a fucking idiot for marrying him.”
He flinches, thinking back to earlier. To be fair, he didn’t actually call me an idiot, but it didn’t feel good either way.
“My period was inconsistent since I had been on contraceptives for so long, but I knew when something changed. And I made the right choice for me.” Defensiveness floods my tone as I wait for his reaction.
Liam understands what I mean immediately.
I had an abortion at nine weeks pregnant, and I haven’t regretted my choice for a second since.
Everyone in my family, and probably the Millers’, knows, but Asher went with me.
It wasn’t long after Juniper had left, and we’d grown closer through our shared sadness.
“I’m glad you did.” There’s no judgment, only sincerity.
Shocked, I add, “I’ve never wanted children. But if I ever were to have them, I certainly didn’t want them to have a father like him.” I shake my head, imagining what Stefan would be like with a daughter of his own. Or what type of man a son of his would grow into.
Liam nods. His arm flexes but he doesn’t move. I wish he would—that he’d come closer to me. “I’m sure there were a million reasons why you made the choice you did. The only one I care about is that it was the right thing for you.”
I let out a relieved breath. He’s the first person I’ve been intimate with who knows this. “It was.”
“Good,” he reaffirms.
I watch him for a moment then add, “Stefan knew, too—or, he had an idea that I was pregnant. When he arrived late to the Millers’ vow renewal and I was puking my guts up, he lost it.
He was pissed that I was drinking in ‘that condition.’” I let out a bitter laugh.
“I was drunk as a fucking skunk, but I figured it out then. If it weren’t for my anger at that moment, I don’t know when I would have asked for a divorce. When I would have been brave enough.”
He opens his mouth then closes it in frustration. “Can I touch you?” he finally asks.
I bob my head once. “Please.”
It’s not a word I use with him often, and it comes out so quietly, but he hears.
He steps into my space and wraps me in his arms. “You would have left him. Maybe not that month, but you would have. You’re strong, Calypso—don’t doubt that about yourself.”
A few tears slip down my cheeks but I don’t wipe them. They stain his shirt in favor of keeping my arms firmly around him. “Now you know… about that.”
His head shifts against mine as he nods. “It doesn’t change anything for me. For us.”
More tears fall from his words. I needed to hear that more than I realized.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I finally admit. He chuckles, never doubting how I needed him here. “I just don’t know how to stop pushing you away sometimes.”
He presses his lips to my head. “You can try all you want, but like I said, honey: I’m here as long as you want me to be.”
I slide my hand along the back of his neck and pull his lips down to mine. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he says in between kisses. “Just let me love you, even if it’s never mutual.”
It is.
Loving Liam was inevitable, though it snuck up on me.
Somewhere between Sunday mornings at the farmer’s market and evenings spent on the couch with Rosie, my soul became woven into the fabric of his being without me noticing.
I wouldn’t even know which threads to pluck at to separate myself from him cleanly—he’s always going to own a bit of me, whether he wants it or not.
Accepting that is much simpler than admitting it to him.
All I can do is nod.
Our lips fuse together. As I always do, I try to show Liam everything I feel but can’t say.
We stay there, wrapped up in each other against the sink, for a long time. The kiss slowly grows from something tender into passionate need.
When I try to lift my leg to his waist, I’m pulled back down by my dress. I let out a sound of frustration.
Chuckling against my lips, Liam helps unzip my dress and I push it to the floor.
Stepping out of it, my legs easily wrap around him and he carries me to the bedroom.
Anticipation grows in the few moments it takes to get to the privacy of my room, and I know that what we’re about to do will be different than any other time we’ve been intimate.
Liam drops me to my feet at the end of the bed and I make quick work of undressing him. It’s not the sexiest show either of us have ever put on, but that’s not the point tonight.
I fall back on the bed and pull myself to the top of the mattress. He slowly climbs over me and presses his body to mine.
We take the moment slower than usual, sharing light caresses and scratches along our skin. He spends time with each of my breasts and between my legs, drawing out the moment for all it’s worth.
Finally, after his thorough worship of my body, he comes back to my mouth and uses his tongue to make love to me. All before he’s pushed inside of me.
Sitting up, I guide him to his back and crawl on top of him. He lets out a low groan, staring up at me as I straddle him.
Biting my lip, I stare down at him. He’s easily the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, but especially like this; he’s on his back under me, cheeks flushed and gaze heady as he waits patiently.
In a breathy voice, I demand, “Say you’re mine.”
He looks up at me with unfathomable affection and hunger, letting his eyes slowly take in every small detail. “You know I am.”
Shaking my head, I lean forward until our chests are pressed together and put all my weight on one arm. “No, I want to hear it.” Lightly, I tap on his lower lip. “Be a good boy and use your words for me.”
He leans up on an elbow and nips at my bottom lip. “I’m yours, Calypso. You fucking own me—heart, body, soul. It all belongs to you now.”
Nodding, I revel in the high of his admission. I rub the head of his length through my wetness, teasing my opening, and Liam whimpers. His hands tighten on my thighs.
“And you aren’t leaving.”
His grin grows despite the tension building in his muscles. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.”
“Good boy,” I murmur against his lips and press down on his thick cock. “Ahh,” I moan as I take another inch of him.
“Fuck, Calypso—you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts and thrusts his hips up.
I try to nod but my head just rolls back in pleasure. “More. I need more, baby.”
He repositions us so he’s sitting against the headboard and takes my ass in both hands. With his help, and using his shoulders to balance, I ride him hard and desperately. Neither of us speak much, too lost in each other’s bodies after everything we’ve shared tonight.
One of my hands wraps around his throat and I hold him in place as I roughly drop my lips to his.
We’re a tangled, erotic mess that I never want to separate from.
His tongue is in my mouth, then the next second his teeth are scraping against my nipple; I squeeze his neck nearly as tight as my pussy clenches around his cock.
I almost consider letting Liam come inside me, but pull off of him at the last minute, catching his arousal on my stomach instead.
Kneeling over him, I try to catch my breath and watch as he gently rubs his cum into my skin.
There’s a deliciously possessive glint in his eye as he marks me as his, and I know that we’ll cross that next barrier with each other at some point.
There’s no rush—which is one of the things I love the most about Liam Maddon.