Chapter Nineteen
LIAM
It’s strange to still be in the same bed I shared with Cill as children. It’s even stranger that Isla is in the next room, and we are the only two people here.
All of us have been sharing her, though we never repeated that first time.
What the hell happened, anyway? Before she came into our lives, I didn’t even think I was interested in getting laid, much less doing it with my two best friends. I’m not the type to share, never have been.
And it’s not like I have feelings for her. I can’t.
Feelings make you vulnerable. Make you weak. If you love someone, they are a liability, so I can’t afford that happening to me.
Then why do I feel so fucking angry every time Dare starts shuffling around in her room? When her cries of pleasure are given to him or Cillian instead of me?
Why is it that any time that happens, I picture them touching her, what her face looks like when she comes?
My stomach is in knots, and my dick is hard.
Time to stop thinking about this shit.
I leave my room to head to the bathroom. And since it seems this is not going down by itself, I guess I have to take care of it myself, because I sure as hell am not giving into my need to bury myself into her tight pussy today.
Before I can make it into the bathroom, the door to Isla’s room bursts open.
She just stands there, scrubbing her eyes and then staring at me, her hazel eyes wary, and fuck it if my cock doesn’t cry for her.
“Is someone going to feed me today?”
“You can feed yourself,” I bark. “Just because you’re stuck here doesn’t mean we have to wait on you hand and foot.”
Her mouth drops open. “Really? Thought I was supposed to be your ‘pet.’ Is this how you treat your pets? Or worse, is this how you treat all the women in your life?”
“I don’t have any pets. Or women in my life.”
She tilts her head. “I find that hard to believe. About the women, not the pets.”
I huff out a breath. I’m pissed at her for no reason I can think of other than she let Dare and Cillian inside her.
“Believe it or not. It’s not like I care.”
“You’ve made that very clear.”
“Good.”
She groans low in the back of her throat. “Somehow, after all this time and all we’ve done, I forgot what an asshole you are.”
“Glad I could remind you.”
I can’t seem to stop being a jerk no matter how I try. Not that I’m trying very hard not to be one at the moment. I’m pissed off if I’m honest.
And her mouth is so pink and pouty.
I want her lips around my cock even though I’m mad at her.
She whirls around and stalks into her room, and all I can see is her ass bouncing in her shorts.
Jesus fucking Christ. I need to get it together.
I go back to my room and pace around for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself.
A few moments turn into half an hour, and a tantalizing smell drifts from the kitchen.
My stomach growls. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve eaten well, given everything that’s going on. I’ve just been too busy to focus on taking care of myself.
I make my way into the kitchen, booming music assaulting my ears as I get closer. I push the kitchen door open, and she’s dropping down into a crouch and then back up again, shaking her ass to the music, lip-syncing with a spatula as she flips bacon in a pan.
I fight a smile and hate how cute she looks.
And that ass. God, I’d spank her so good.
Snap out of it!
“Your moves are a little stiff.”
She doesn’t miss a beat, still grooving to the music. “As stiff as that stick up your ass?”
I walk over to the kitchen radio, which is perched in the windowsill, and flip it off.
She huffs, blowing her bangs out of her face. “You’re such a buzzkill.”
“On the contrary. I was going to offer you a beer.”
Isla wrinkles her nose. “A beer? I’m more of a wine gal.”
“Suit yourself.” I open the fridge, popping the beer open with the crook of my elbow.
Isla’s eyes widen. “How’d you learn to do that?”
I chuckle low in my throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Can’t imagine you as a frat boy.”
“Top of my class, president of my fraternity, Alpha Omega.”
“You were an Alpha Omega?”
“Don’t look so shocked.” I plop down in the kitchen chair, and it suddenly hits me how exhausted I am. I haven’t been eating, haven’t been sleeping much. I’m going to drop if I’m not careful.
She begrudgingly slides me a plate of bacon cheeseburger and homemade fries, and it looks and smells delicious.
“You made me a burger.” My voice isn’t questioning but more just baffled.
“Yeah, well, you gotta eat, too, don’t you?” Her tone sounds defensive as she sits across from me instead of going back into her bedroom, chowing down on her burger.
I take a wary bite, and flavor bursts on my tongue.
“It’s good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“You said you didn’t cook.”
She shrugs. “I don’t. Not much, anyway. This is about the only thing I know how to make other than ramen noodles.”
“That means you’re not a bad cook. You’re just lazy.”
Isla frowns and blinks at me. “Does everything out of your mouth need to sound so cruel?”
“It’s not cruelty if it’s the truth. Just honesty.” That’s how I was raised.
“That's...not how it works.”
“It is for me. I don’t like being pandered to. And I won’t sugarcoat things just because you’re a baby.”
“I’m not a baby.” She pouts.
I want to drape her over my lap, spank that ample ass, and fuck the brattiness right out of her.
I look away, finishing my burger.
“So, what am I supposed to do all day?”
“I guess there’s a library I could show you. Assuming you can read.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Show me the library.”
I stand up and put the dishes in the sink. I’ll deal with them later.
I walk up the stairs.
After a moment, she follows.
I head into the last room of the house, the only room I don’t have frequently cleaned.
I turn the knob.
The door sticks from lack of use, and I have to use my shoulder to pop it open.
It doesn’t occur to me until I’m standing in the middle of the room, illuminated by the sunlight coming in through the skylight, that this is the first time I’ve been in the library since Ma died.
I have no idea what Ma saw in my father, but he was enamored by her. I’d heard, growing up, that she was his only weakness. When she died, he lost his mind, became more unhinged, scary. It has only gotten worse as time goes by.
A memory washes over me, unbidden, and I stand stock-still, almost able to see the scene in real time.
My mother, standing at the bookshelf, a paperback in her left hand, reading softly. My father, his chin on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist.
How old had I been when I’d seen that? Ten? Maybe younger.
“Liam? Are you...all right?”
I blink, coming back to reality, and I turn to face Isla.
“Of course, I am.” My voice sounds thinner than I’d planned it to, almost rough.
She looks at me a moment longer. “It’s dusty in here.”
“I don’t let the maid clean it.”
“Why not?”
I don’t answer, and she walks around the large room, looking at the spines of all the books.
The bookshelves line the walls.
My mother was an avid reader, and my father could never deny her anything.
So, the little three-bedroom house he’d bought when they first got married turned into a two-bedroom and a library when she was told she was unable to have more children.
Cillian had come along just after, and she’d taken him in like he was her own. To his credit, Da had, too.
“It was my mother’s.” I’m not sure why I'm telling her this. “My father built it for her after her final miscarriage.”
Isla turns, looking startled at my openness. “Your mother?”
“She passed.” I look down at the floor instead of into her hazel eyes. I don’t want to see pity in them.
“I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s what happens, isn’t it? Everyone loses their parents. Everyone loses their life at some point.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel grief.”
“I don’t feel anything.”
Or I didn’t until you came along. Now I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me.
I look back at her, willing myself to go numb again, to stop this wave inside me of whatever this is.
She hums, picking out a handful of books from the middle shelf, mostly mysteries, a couple of historical fiction novels.
I scoff. “No romance?”
“Haven't you heard? Romance is dead.” She smiles at me, showing her teeth, and I want to look away again, but I can’t seem to.
She walks out of the library, leaving me standing there staring at the open door.
Isla... she’s not the woman I thought she was, and not because she isn’t Maggie Sullivan. She’s witty, sharp as a tack, inquisitive.
But maybe that’s how she’s manipulating us. That and that tight little body of hers.
She’s disappeared into her room, and I lock her door for good measure.
I can’t be letting her seduce me like she did Dare, fucking me to sleep so she can escape.
Despite what Dare thinks, we can’t let her go. Not now. Da needs time to cool down, to forget what’s happening. It won’t take long, given the state of his mind.
Besides, I’m not ready to be without her just yet for some reason.
I sit down on the couch, making some phone calls and going through my emails, and working cheers me up a little.
I love the corporate world—the number crunching, the tight, concise language, the board meetings.
There’s so much order in it, order that I don’t experience outside of my office.
Order that seems to have deserted me the moment a certain woman entered my life.
I feel stiff by the time I stand up, stretching and yawning, and I realize night has fallen.
Shit.
I’ve been here for hours, left Isla locked up. There’s a bathroom in the bedroom, but still...
I hurry to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open, and Isla stands at the full-length mirror wearing a big t-shirt. It looks like Cillian’s, maybe one from high school. She must have raided the other bedroom for clothes at some point.
While I’m glad she’s not wearing my mother’s nightie, jealousy washes over me, twisting my gut. The anger I felt earlier comes back tenfold, and I can’t stop the words that come out of my mouth.
“Take that off."
It’s not an ordered bark, but it’s no less demanding, and she freezes with a brush halfway through her silky curls.
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me. Take it off.”
She turns slowly, and I sit down in the recliner across from the bed, watching her with half-lidded eyes.
I didn’t come here for this, I came to check up on her, but I can’t seem to get a hold of myself.
I expect her to yell at me. Tell me to get out, and there’s fire in her eyes, but she doesn’t say a word as she lifts the hem of the shirt and slowly pulls it over her head.
She’s bare beneath, and I suck in a breath through gritted teeth, watching her perky breasts bounce as she throws the shirt on the floor.
The fire in her eyes still burns, but it is now scorching with something else.
She wants this.
I spread my legs, my cock already starting to plump just looking at her. Even the long scar on her torso does nothing to take away from her beauty.
“Come here.”
She takes a step forward, and I hold up my hand.
“Not like that. On your hands and knees. Crawl.”
Isla hesitates but only for a split second before dropping to her knees, her pupils dilated as she crawls toward me, keeping eye contact.
The way her body sways as she approaches has me rising to full mast.
When she stops right in front of me, she slowly sits up on her knees, putting her hands on my clothed thighs.
I grunt, losing the ability to speak as my breath grows shorter, seeing her look at me so obediently.
I free myself, and as I pump my length slowly, Isla looks down at it with hungry eyes.
“You’re going to suck me off like your life depends on it.”
She doesn’t even blink, just bowing her head, and I hold myself at the base until she wraps her small hand around mine.
I move my arms to the armrests, digging in my nails slightly as her warm, wet mouth engulfs me.
It feels like heaven, and it’s all I can do to not thrust up into her mouth.
But her nails drag along my thighs as she hums around me, almost like she wants me to face-fuck her.
A low, rumbling groan starts in my chest as she starts to twist her hand around my base, flicking her fingers down to play with the seam of my balls.
My breath grows ragged. “Good girl. Now make yourself come as you swallow all of me.”
She moans around me, one of her hands going between her legs as she bobs her head, and I can’t hold back anymore, thrusting my hips.
She gags and chokes but keeps her grip tight on my base, recovering and going back to her task.
“Good fucking girl, pet.”
She lets her teeth drag over my head, and I choke out a moan and grab her hair as I fuck her mouth, deep and hard.
Her gagging and the tears running down her face have me speed up until I’m spilling inside her mouth, over her lip, sooner than I wanted to.
“Take it. Swallow it all, pet.”
Isla looks me right in the eye as she licks it off, swallowing, and my spent dick twitches once more.
“You took it so well,” I murmur, stroking her head, and her eyes, which have gone glassy, light up.
“I did?”
I chuckle, sweeping her up into my lap and holding her, her back to my chest. I kiss the top of her head. “Aye. You did well, little pet.”
She huffs out a breath. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Not sure what to call you. Not sure what your name really is.” Despite my words, I’m relaxed and comfortable, my arms loosely around her waist, my chest still heaving.
“I told you.”
“Aye. But you’ve also lied about it once already, so who’s to say you are telling the truth now?”
She pouts. “You still don’t trust me?”
I snort. “No, can’t say that I do.”
“I don’t trust you either.” She doesn’t attempt to move out of my lap.
And, despite her words, soon enough, she’s snoring lightly in my arms.
I don’t trust her, but my body betrays me just the same.
My eyelids start getting heavy.
I scoop her up into a bridal carry, and she doesn’t even stir as I lie her down on the bed.
I could crawl into bed with her. Just get a couple of hours of shut-eye.
I blink at my own thoughts, shaking my head vigorously.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m acting like Dare.
I’ve got to get a handle on whatever it is I’m feeling for this woman.