Chapter 26 Ryder
RYDER
Dominic glances at his watch and drains the last of his bourbon. “I should head out. Early meeting tomorrow with the zoning commission.”
“The life of a property mogul never stops,” I quip, raising my glass in mock salute.
After he leaves, an interesting shift happens in the air between Liam and me. The dynamic changes when it’s the two of us—it always has, ever since that first night in the Red Room.
“Another round?” I ask, flagging down the bartender before he can answer.
Liam leans back in his chair, loosening his tie with one hand. “Why not? No court appearances tomorrow.”
I can’t help but watch the way his fingers work at the knot, imagining those same fingers elsewhere. “You know, counselor, you wear that suit like it’s armor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s the point of a good suit.”
“And what are you protecting yourself from exactly?” I lean forward, elbows on the table.
“People who ask too many questions,” he counters, but there’s a hint of a smile.
Our drinks arrive, and I deliberately let my fingers brush against his as I slide his glass over. His eyes flick to mine, acknowledging the touch without commenting on it.
“You ever wonder how different things would be if we’d met under normal circumstances?” I ask.
“Define normal.”
“I don’t know. A bar. A casino. Somewhere without masks and revenge plots.”
Liam takes a measured sip. “We wouldn’t have met at all. Our worlds don’t exactly overlap.”
“They do now,” I point out.
Liam’s eyes hold mine across the rim of his glass, and I feel that familiar pull between us—the one that started in the Red Room and hasn’t faded since.
“True enough,” he says. “Twenty hours from now, we’ll be sharing more than just drinks.”
I swirl the amber liquid in my glass. “You nervous about it?”
“About Cora?”
“About all of it. The four of us living together. Sharing...” I trail off, not sure how to articulate the complexity of what we’re embarking on.
Liam studies me with that lawyer’s gaze that seems to read everything I’m not saying. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“None of us have.” I lower my voice. “But I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she looked at me in the bath when I was washing her hair. Like she wanted to hate me but couldn’t quite manage it.”
“She has every right to hate us,” Liam says, guilt flashing across his features.
“But she doesn’t. Not completely.” I take another drink, feeling the bourbon warm my chest. “And I can’t stop thinking about you and Dom either.”
Liam’s expression shifts subtly. He leans forward, close enough that I catch the scent of his cologne. “Is that so?”
“Don’t act surprised. You felt it too—when we were all together.”
His fingers tap thoughtfully against his glass. “I did. I do.”
The admission hangs between us. I think about reaching for his hand, but don’t. Not yet.
The bourbon hits me in a warm, pleasant wave. Two glasses in and I’m feeling looser, watching Liam’s long fingers trace the rim of his tumbler. I can’t help remembering those same fingers gripping my hips in the Red Room, the way they dug into my flesh when he was behind me.
“You know what’s funny?” I lean in, voice dropping lower. “After everything we’ve done together, all the ways we’ve been with Cora, each other... I wouldn’t mind having some fun with just you tonight.”
Liam’s eyebrows rise, and he pulls back slightly. “Tonight? Without the others?”
“Why not?” I shrug, maintaining eye contact. “No masks, no revenge plots. Just two guys who clearly have chemistry.”
“That was just during the Hunt,” he says, but I notice he doesn’t move his hand when I place mine close to his on the table.
“Was it?” I trail a finger across his knuckles. “I think it could be whenever we want.”
Liam takes another sip of his drink. The initial resistance in his eyes shifts to something more playful. “You’re trouble, Caldwell.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He leans forward, confidence returning with that perfectly practiced smile that disarms judges and juries alike. “And what exactly did you have in mind? Since you’ve clearly been thinking about it.”
The bourbon makes me bolder. “I say we make use of one of the private rooms here in Purgatory. No need to wait until tomorrow to start exploring what this is between us.”
Liam’s smile turns wicked, all resistance gone. “Well, I do like to be thorough in my... explorations.” He finishes his drink and stands, straightening his suit jacket with a fluid motion. “Let’s see if you’re as good without an audience.”
We walk through Purgatory’s dimly lit corridors, past rooms where moans and gasps escape through thick doors.
My heart pounds against my ribs like I’m some fucking teenager about to get his first taste.
Which is ridiculous because we’ve already crossed so many lines together, but somehow this feels different.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Liam asks, his voice carrying that amused edge I’ve come to recognize.
“Third door on the right,” I reply, surprised my voice sounds steady when everything inside me is electric. “Xavier keeps it reserved for VIPs.”
The attendant recognizes us immediately, nodding deferentially as she unlocks the door. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
The room is all dark wood and burgundy velvet, dominated by a massive bed. But we don’t make it that far.
The moment the door clicks shut behind us, I turn to Liam, and something snaps. I grab his perfectly pressed lapels and push him against the wall, pressing my body flush against his.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this all night,” I breathe, and then my mouth is on his.
Liam freezes for a split second before his hands come up to grip my hips, pulling me tighter against him. His mouth opens, and the taste of bourbon on his tongue makes my head spin.
We’ve fucked, we’ve touched, we’ve done so many filthy things together with Cora around. My cock hardens instantly, straining against my zipper, and I can feel him getting just as hard against me.
I roll my hips, grinding myself against the impressive bulge in his tailored pants. The friction is maddening even through layers of fabric. Liam groans into my mouth, one hand sliding to my ass, gripping hard enough to bruise.
“Christ, Caldwell,” he murmurs against my lips, then bites my lower lip hard enough to make me gasp.
Our tongues slide together, urgent and messy. Nothing calculated or controlled about it, simply want that has been building during the Hunt.
I pull at the buttons of his shirt. “Need these clothes off. Now.”
Liam gives me that smug smile that always makes my cock twitch. “Impatient, aren’t we?”
“You’ve got no fucking idea,” I growl, yanking the silk tie free and attacking the buttons of his crisp white shirt.
His fingers work at my belt quickly. Unlike my frantic scrambling, Liam undresses me with the easy confidence he applies to everything else. It’s maddening and hot as hell.
I shove his shirt off broad shoulders, my hands greedy for skin. The smooth planes of his chest contrast with the light dusting of hair trailing down his stomach. I follow it with my fingers, then my mouth, dropping to my knees to kiss a path down his abs while undoing his pants.
“Christ,” Liam hisses when I mouth him through his boxer briefs. His hand tangles in my hair, pulling hard enough to make my eyes water.
I rise back up, shoving my jeans and underwear down in one motion. Liam does the same, kicking his expensive pants aside without his usual concern for wrinkles.
We stand naked, breathing hard, taking each other in without the chaos of the Hunt surrounding us.
“Come here,” I whisper, pulling him toward me.
Our bodies collide, skin against skin. I align our cocks together, wrapping my hand around both of us, and the sensation makes my knees buckle. Liam steadies me, his arm snaking around my waist.
“Just like in the Red Room,” he murmurs against my mouth before capturing my lips again.
Our hips work in tandem, thrusting into my grip. The friction of his cock sliding against mine sends sparks dancing behind my eyelids. Liam’s tongue pushes into my mouth, mimicking the rhythm of our bodies.
I can’t get enough—his taste, the slick heat between us, the way his breathing hitches when I squeeze just right. His hand joins mine, fingers intertwining as we stroke ourselves together.
Our kiss turns desperate, all teeth and tongue. His free hand grips my ass, pulling me impossibly closer as we rock against each other.
The friction of our cocks together is incredible, but I want more. Need more. My head falls back against the wall as Liam’s teeth graze my neck.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, the words tumbling out before I can overthink them. “I want you inside me.”
Liam pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. His hand never stops moving on our cocks.
“How about we flip fuck?” he suggests, voice rough with want. “I fuck you, then you fuck me.”
The image of Liam—always in control—spreading himself for me sends a jolt of pure lust through my system. I’ve never seen him submit to anyone but Dominic.
“Fuck yes,” I groan, already imagining how he’ll feel around me. “Bed. Now.”
We stumble across the room, unwilling to break contact. Liam reaches into the bedside drawer where Purgatory always keeps supplies, pulling out a bottle of lube.
“On your back,” he commands, and I comply immediately, spreading myself across the sheets.
He kneels between my legs, slicking his fingers generously. I watch his face—the intense concentration, the hunger in his eyes as he circles my entrance with slippery fingers.
“Relax for me,” he murmurs, pressing one finger slowly inside.
I exhale sharply, forcing my muscles to yield. Liam works me open patiently, adding a second finger, then a third, stretching and preparing me thoroughly. His free hand strokes my cock in time with his fingers, keeping me right on the edge.
“Enough,” I gasp when his fingers brush my prostate for the third time. “I’m ready.”