23. Liam
23
LIAM
I press my palm to the base of Whitney’s spine, the tips of my fingers tingling against the bare skin her gown reveals. When I first saw her, I thought I was going to lose it. I wanted to rip that dress off her body and touch her everywhere. The contrast of the red silk against her pale skin, the sight of her bare neck as she turned away from me…
Fuck.
Then I saw her smiling and flirting with fucking Mikey, of all people. I only had to spend five minutes with that guy to know he was a jerk. I met him when Tim introduced me to Rebecca, but he barely glanced in my direction before making some inappropriate comment about the waitress. I would’ve ignored his presence completely if he hadn’t crossed the room to talk to Whitney and Emily.
I leave her alone for ten minutes and she’s looking at him with a smile that she’s never given to me. Wide and bright and completely unguarded.
I hated it.
Now, the smile that was dancing on her face mere minutes ago has faded into a scowl. I press her forward, gripping my hand around her arm and pulling her out of the ballroom.
“Come on,” I nudge her forward, and she throws me a frustrated glare.
This night has been a total disaster. I was already thrown when I saw Whitney. I wanted nothing more than to slide my hands below that silky fabric and find her wet and ready for me. Slip my fingers inside her until she begged for my cock. Just the sight of her was making me feel out of control, but I’d managed to push it down and force myself to network. It only got worse from there; Tim had introduced me to some folks, and I managed to get a few business cards, but I spent most of my time talking to Rebecca. I pitched Luke’s foundation to her, as passionately as I could, and she slashed all of it to fucking bits. Told me that I didn’t have enough support or funding. That a one-man team was not enough to get started with such a large endeavor.
To her credit, I don’t think she meant to tear me down completely. I suppose she’s just being realistic, and if anyone knows about this stuff, it’s her. If she says I can’t do it, she’s probably right. She’d just finished slashing me to pieces when I glanced over at Whitney to see Mikey touching her. I let out a growl at the memory.
“We’re leaving,” I spit, trying to control the growing rage inside of me at Rebecca’s words. At the sight of Whitney touching another man.
“Stop manhandling me,” she seethes, yanking her arm out of my grip. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Don’t push me right now, Whitney,” I warn her, my temper simmering. “Not when I see you flirting with Mikey fucking Sullivan.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’m getting pretty sick of this possessive boyfriend routine.”
“Watch it,” I growl.
“Or what? Plan to fuck the jealousy out of me again?”
The comment sizzles between us, the air taught and heavy with her words. She’s broken our agreement to pretend that night never happened. She struts ahead of me, rushing out of the hotel and stepping out to the sidewalk. I order an Uber, and silence settles between us as we wait.
“Sorry I don’t like watching my wife flirt with another man right in front of me,” I growl.
She rolls her eyes as the car pulls up in front of us. I yank the door open, and she slides in, all the way to the other side.
“I wasn’t flirting! And if I was, I was just trying to talk you up to him. He seems really connected, and I thought if he heard your pitch, he could help you out. I did it for you. I only came to this stupid event for you. Bought this stupid dress for you.”
Her voice breaks slightly on the last word. Just the sound of it melts my icy anger. I can’t see her face in the darkness of the back seat, but I reach for her hand, and she flinches at the contact, pulling back from my touch.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out, and she stiffens. “Rebecca said some shit about the foundation, how it would never work, and I was pissed off. When I saw you touching him, I lost it. I’m sorry, Whit.”
She turns to me, her gaze sharp. “What did Rebecca say?”
I shake my head. “Just that the whole foundation idea is a pipe dream and that I should give up before I sink too much money into it.”
“What does she know?”
“A lot. She knows a fuck ton more than I do. All I’m doing is chasing the dream of a dead man.”
“So, Rebecca says it’s no good, and you just believe her? I didn’t know you were a quitter, Liam.”
My gaze darkens. “I’m not.”
She shrugs back at me, a challenge in her eyes. “Sounds like you are.”
“She agreed to look at my business plan,” I tell her. “Hopefully she’ll have more constructive feedback.”
Whitney just nods, turning away from me to look out the window. I reach for her hand again with a sigh, and this time, she lets me take it in mine. I rub my thumb on the back of her palm as some of the tension loosens from her shoulders. “For what it’s worth, I think the dress was worth every penny.”
“I thought I looked ‘nice’.”
I inhale, the scent of her surrounding the space around us. “You look fucking beautiful.”
It’s silent in the wake of my confession. I tighten my grip on her hand, trying to get a glimpse of her expression. “Why did you leave? In the morning?” I ask.
She glances away from me. “Don’t,” she says into the darkness.
“We’re never going to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “It was one-time thing. We both agreed.”
I cross my arms over my chest, leaning away from her. “Well, maybe I changed my mind.”
“Excuse me?” Her head snaps in my direction.
“Maybe once wasn’t enough for me. Maybe I need another taste.”
She scoffs, turning away from me again, and the remaining journey is the longest five minutes of my life.
“Right here okay?” the Uber driver asks cautiously from the driver’s seat. I glance out the window and realize we’re at the apartment.
“Great, thanks,” Whitney says, shoving her door open and slamming it behind her, leaving me sitting in the backseat.
Fucking brilliant.
I open the car door and meet the driver’s eyes in the mirror. “Thanks, mate. Have a good evening.”
“Enjoy,” he says, sarcasm seeping into his tone.
When I step into the apartment, she’s already in her room. Hiding from me, I suppose.
Guess we’re done with our conversation.
I peel off my jacket and loosen my tie, slipping my shoes off. I’m heading to my room when I hear Whitney call my name from her room. Her door is cracked open.
“Liam? Can you come in here for a minute?”
I hesitate outside her door, pushing it open and stepping into the room. She’s standing in front of her mirror, her back to me. I meet her gaze in the reflection, and her expression is a familiar one, tinged with desire but still cautious. Guarded.
She blinks, her brown eyes shining in the warm light. “Can you unzip me?” she asks softly.
I cross the room until I’m standing behind her. I don’t move at first, studying her expression for some hint of what she’s feeling, what she wants. I lower my gaze to her back, swallowing. Slowly, I bring my hand up to the zipper, settling my palm against her bare skin.
Whitney takes in a sharp breath, and my gaze shoots up to hers again. Her expression is no longer cloudy. Desire, plain and clear, shines in her eyes. I can’t help the slow smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. My fingers play with the zipper as I grip it in my hand, tugging it down her body inch by painful inch. When I completely unzip her, I slide my hand to the base of her spine and step closer, pressing my body against hers.
“You trying to seduce me, Whit?” I whisper into her ear, pressing my lips to the side of her neck and sucking on the soft skin there. “What happened to a one-time thing?”
She whimpers softly, and I meet her eyes in the mirror again, my gaze darkening.
“Shut up,” she says, her hands holding up the front of her dress on her shoulders.
I slip one hand around her hip to the front of her body, my fingers dancing on her stomach, teasing. “Maybe I should make you beg for it.”
Her eyes flash in warning. “Don’t you dare.”
My smirk grows as I slip my fingers lower. “Maybe I should tease you.” I breathe the words against the shell of her ear.
She presses further against me. “Liam,” she groans.
“Maybe I should peel this dress off you and fuck you over this desk.” I trail my hand up her arm to where the straps of her dress are still hanging. “Make you watch us in the mirror for every minute of it.”
She inhales another sharp breath, her eyes closing as she settles her head against my shoulder.
“Should I? Would you like that?”
She exhales shakily but doesn’t speak. I still my movements, waiting for a response, and her eyes fly open to meet my gaze head-on. “Yes,” she whispers.
Slipping her dress off her shoulder, I let it fall off her arms, baring her chest to me. Her nipples harden in the cool air, and I snake my hand around her waist, trailing up her torso to the underside of her breasts. One hand still resting above her panties, I bring the other up to her nipple, massaging and rolling the peak in my fingers.
Fuck, she feels good.
The dress drops to the floor. “Step out,” I breathe against her neck.
She swallows and lifts her legs, stepping out of the dress and sliding it to the side. In the mirror, I take in her naked body as she trembles slightly against my touch.
“So pretty,” I murmur against her ear, slipping my hands to her panties and pulling them down. “Again.”
She steps out again, now completely naked in nothing but her heels. She reaches down to remove them, but I stop her movements, gently circling her wrist.
“Leave them on.”
She straightens, meeting my gaze in the mirror with a smirk. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Get naked.”
I laugh against her spine, pulling her back against me. “Always so impatient.” I reach my hand around to her inner thigh, gripping it. “You want me to take my cock out, sweetheart?” Her breath hitches as my finger teases at her entrance. “Watch yourself,” I command. “Look at how wet you are.” I press a finger inside her, my thumb circling her clit as I go deeper, and she groans in response.
“Take your shirt off,” she breathes.
I chuckle and slip another finger inside her, thrusting against her.
“And your pants.”
Chuckling, I stop my movements and unbutton my shirt as Whitney turns to face me, reaching for my belt. I yank my shirt off my shoulders, throwing it to the side, while she tugs my pants down. I press my hand against hers, settling her movements as I step out of my pants. Her eyes flicker up to mine, and a rush of heat travels through me when our gazes lock.
She reaches a hand up to my cheek, her thumb caressing my jawbone as I lower my head and press a kiss to her lips, opening her mouth to mine. She tastes just as sweet as I remember.
“Turn around. I want to see us together.”
Blinking up at me, she puts her hand over mine and swallows. “I… I have an IUD, and there’s no one else. There hasn’t been, I mean.”
The corners of my mouth tick up, and I press another kiss against her lips, slipping my tongue into hers. The thought of fucking Whitney bare has my already-hard cock thickening even more.
“Turn around,” I repeat.