35. Thirty-Five #2
Artemis's smile doesn't falter, but something shifts in her eyes with a barely perceptible cloud passing over their hazel brightness. She sits up, tucking her legs beneath her and smoothing her hair in that deliberate way she does when buying time.
“Life is complicated.” She reaches for her glass of water. “People are complicated. I’m too preoccupied with Naym not letting me see our daughter…”
Though her smile barely remains, I can sense a tightness to her heart, something deeply guarded and fragile beneath her composed exterior. I've known Artemis long enough to know she’s hurting in ways many don’t understand.
“I’m so sorry, Tattoo,” I whisper, sitting up too. “I just... I'm here if you need me, you know? Like you are for me.”
“I know—” She stops as Liam enters the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His lips curve into that familiar smirk that used to infuriate me but now sends warmth spreading through my chest.
“How are you girls doing?” he asks, eyes scanning the mess of ice cream containers and the movie credits still rolling on screen. It all seems to amuse him rather than annoy him, and I can't help but smile at the domesticity of it all.
When he gazes at Artemis, his body shifts. “What’s wrong, Artemis? who do we need to beat up?”
Artemis smiles and waves her hand. “You’ve got enough going on, Liam. Thank you.”
“You’d be proud to know we didn’t need to paint Fiasco.” I smirk and Fiasco lifts his too sleepy snout at the sound of his name as to say 'What now?'
Artemis stretches, her designer dress somehow still immaculate despite our lounging. “And I was about to head out. It's getting late. I have meetings in the morning.” She reaches for her purse when the shadow of another figure appears behind Liam, making her freeze mid-movement.
“Oh, I didn't know you were here,” Artemis says, her voice catching slightly as Damien steps into view. The air in the room shifts immediately.
Damien leans against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on her in a way that makes me feel like I'm witnessing something intensely private.
“I was in the back with Liam, going over some details.”
Liam glances between them, then at me, raising an eyebrow slightly. I tilt my head subtly in response.
“I can give you a ride home,” Damien offers her, slipping into his leather jacket, his voice deliberately casual, but there's an undercurrent of something else—something that makes Artemis stiffen.
“No, thanks.” She slips back into her armor of confidence. “I'd rather get blisters with these heels to the point of amputation,” she replies with a forced smile, grabbing her shoes and sliding them on with practiced grace, and I swallow an imminent laugh.
Damien looks like he's about to argue, but he clenches his jaw and agrees once, a glint of disappointment in his gaze.
Artemis walks over to me, pulling me into one last hug. Her lips brush against my cheek in a quick kiss. “Call me tomorrow.”
She heads toward the door and taps Liam's shoulder with surprising familiarity. Her voice drops to something meant only for him, but still loud enough for me to hear. “Don't fuck this up.”
Damien follows her out and closes the door behind him.
Gosh, I want to run to the window and take a peek, but when my gaze falls on Liam, my curiosity cuts short, my mouth goes dry.
When I look at him, I see a man standing tall, unafraid, untouched by the gravity around him, the tough exterior harboring a softer, broken side that now I understand his reluctance to open up.
When you’ve had to be so strong all your life and someone has burned you, you reach a point where letting anyone in feels like a curse, yet it is also your only salvation.
His gaze is burning so hot into me that I forget how to breathe, pinning me in place as effectively as if he'd used his hands.
The door has barely clicked shut behind Damien and Artemis, but Liam's already crossing the room toward me with predatory grace, all lean muscle and focused intent and I freeze into disbelief of how handsome he is, his dark hair spilling over his forehead, briefly shielding one of his glacial blue eyes that restrains me to the spinning room. I’m mesmerized by his strong angles, the stubble on his jaw that my fingers burn to trace, his mouth that I hungrily want to bite if no other than to remind my core how he belongs to me.
He belongs to me.
Even though I trust him more than anyone else at this point in my life, there’s still that menace about him that tangles with pure lust, desire and danger in all the right places, making me tremble.
He closes the distance between us, firm hands grasping my waist and pulling me against him with such urgency that I gasp.
He steals my breath with a kiss, and I’m surprised at how desperate I am for his lips.
We’ve spent days, discovering each part of our bodies and confiding in one another but it’s as if we were apart for too many of them.
My body is in withdrawal over this beautiful man bringing me to my knees for him.
He tastes like coffee and mint and something uniquely Liam that I'm addicted to.
His hands slide up my back, one tangling in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss even further, and I'm drowning in all the traces of stardust I’ve followed that has brought me to him, which I can no longer look back with regret.
This connection is rare, I feel it, I know it.
It’s not something many people encounter in their lifetime, and I’ve prayed for this, to feel so close to someone you’re almost certain you’ve encountered them in another lifetime.
A soft moan escapes me as he walks me backward until my back hits the wall and I gasp, he takes advantage, his tongue exploring my mouth with possessiveness, lacing with mine.
He lifts me up into his arms, and when he whispers, “I need you in my bed, now.” My body complies. His fingers dig into my thighs, bruising and claiming. “I want to feel you surrender everything, every piece of yourself until there's nothing left that isn't mine, Sara.”
My whole body vibrates against him, if I could crawl inside someone and still not feel close enough, this would be it.
The urge to be well-behaved for him coils low in my belly, a sweet submission that makes my breath catch.
I want to give him everything he wants, everything he’s ever deserved, to watch his eyes darken when I surrender, and how much I'll take of him until we're both agonizingly shattered and deliciously remade.