“I can’t…” I pant, my head thrashing on the pillow. “Liam, I’m going to come.”
The coil snaps, and a wave of pleasure so intense it borders on pain crashes over me. My body convulses around him, a scream on my lips as the orgasm rips through me.
Liam doesn’t stop. His rhythm becomes faster and more urgent. He buries his face in my hair, his thrusts growing deeper.
“Avery,” he grunts in a raw, guttural sound.
His whole body tenses above me, and with one final, deep surge, he finds his own climax. His cock pulses, and with a groan, he orgasms, then collapses on top of me. His body is hot and heavy on top of mine. A kind of pressure that I find myself welcoming as I hold him for a little while longer while we catch our breaths.
Slowly, Liam pushes himself up and pulls out. With a kiss to my forehead, he disappears into the adjoining bathroom.
As soon as the bathroom door shuts, the haze of pleasure begins to recede, replaced by cold reality.
Liam’s opulent master bedroom suddenly feels like a crime scene. I’m a publicist. He’s my client. The most powerful, scrutinized client I’ve ever had. Worse, he’s the kind of man I’d sworn I’d never touch again.
I scramble upright, pulling the sheets up to my chin, heart racing.
What have I done?
Liam returns to the bedroom, completely at ease in his nakedness. He sees me huddled there, and his satisfied expression falters.
“Avery?” he asks, his voice tinged with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
He reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, but I flinch. His hand stills. A shadow crosses his face.
His eyes search mine, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, laced with a doubt I’ve never heard from him before. “Did I disappoint you?”
I inhale deeply. Can’t this man, who indulges every whim he has, understand that I've been here before?
That Kai taught me exactly what happens when you think an athlete will choose you over the spotlight, over the attention, over the endless parade of options?
9
Liam
I wake up to something wet and warm on my face. For a blissful moment, I think it's Avery kissing me awake. Then my eyes open and I'm staring into the enormous brown eyes of Trouble.
“Morning to you, too, buddy,” I mutter, gently moving him off my chest. I swing my legs off the bed. “Avery?” I call out.
She's gone. This is the second time she’s snuck out on me.
The memory of last night comes flooding back. The way Avery felt in my arms, the way she submitted to me when I told her it was my turn to take charge.
I pull on a pair of boxers and pad to the kitchen. On the counter, there’s a note from Avery.
Puppy care schedule.
Apparently, I’m not worth staying for, butjustenough to say goodbye to. Her handwriting is neat, every letter carefully shaped, and I find myself tracing the curves with my finger like a love-struck fool.
I should be grateful that she cares enough about the puppies to leave a note about their care. Instead, it pisses me off.
It’s me she should be taking care of.
The thought is a live wire, sparking through my system and heading straight south. I look down as my cock thickens under my boxers.
I’m so fucking horny. And not for any woman. I can get that in less than an hour. It’s Avery I want.
In my head, the morning should have gone like this. I’d wake up first, feeling her curled against my side. I’d trail my lips along her shoulder, my hand sliding down the smooth plane of her stomach.
