Liam trailed stubbled-roughened kisses between her breasts. He circled her bellybutton with his tongue and looked up at her through his eyelashes to see the exact moment she responded to his fingers slipping inside her.
She could feel her control starting to slip, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy as he murmured against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, “I could spend my life between your thighs.” Using the broad, flat edge of his tongue, he drew a firm stroke from her opening to her clit. She dug a fist into his hair, lifting her hips to meet his searching tongue. He chuckled before dipping his tongue again, circling her clit with wet, hot precision. He wrapped his lips around the swollen bundle of nerves peeking out between her folds and sucked so hard and long her toes curled.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let me taste you.”
Her legs shook uncontrollably as he drove her closer and closer to her orgasm. He banded his free arm around her thigh, holding her tight against his mouth as he drew an inexorable climax from her. His fingers and tongue didn’t let up until her spasms resolved to slow rolls of her hips and her cries calmed to gentle pants.
“So gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing a final kiss to her mound before climbing up her body and pressing his mouth to hers, her wetness lingering on his lips and tongue.
“Good morning,” she chuckled against his lips, tasting herself. When she reached for his cock, though, he gripped her wrist, pulling her hand away. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re sore,” he said.
“I don’t care,” she said, reaching for him again and giving him a lazy stroke.
He bucked into her touch before pulling away. “I do.” The rejection was disorienting – or was he just being considerate? Before she could ask more, he climbed off the bed, tossing one of his t-shirts to her from the laundry basket in the corner. “Come on, beautiful. I’ll make you breakfast.”
They ate their scrambled eggs and toast half naked on the sofa, Min’s legs draped over Liam’s lap. But something was off. Despite their nakedness, despite the casual intimacy of their position and the fact that Liam had woken her with his fingers between her legs, something wasn’t right. She could almost feel the tether that bound them together straining as he packed himself away behind some wall she couldn’t quite see. The night before they’d said they loved each other for the first time, but that morning he felt so far away.
She waited until he’d cleared the breakfast dishes and returned to the couch, but the stiffness in his shoulders, the set of his jaw – it was all wrong.
“What happened in New Jersey?” she asked, closing her eyes against the distance in his expression. “You’re always telling me not to hide from you.” She returned his gaze, cold dread slipping down her spine. “Please don’t hide from me.”
He nodded, but it was several breaths before he spoke. “We closed the Dietrich deal. All that’s left is paperwork.”
“That’s great,” she smiled. “I don’t understand why –”
“The Aidan Amery Dietrich Theater. They’ll unveil it in time for opening night of workshop.”
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze to where her fingers lay in her lap, her hands already pulling on her fingers. A physical sensation she could use to ground herself.
“Tell me what happened between you two. Please,” he said as he took her hands, stilling their movement.
She nodded, but it was her turn to steady her breathing before she spoke. The story tumbled from her in every excruciating detail. He held her hand in her lap the whole time, his hold on her growing tighter with each revelation until his grip bordered on painful. But the discomfort was a welcome distraction from the memories.
The fuzzy feeling on her tongue from too much alcohol, the way her throat stung with each new sip. How cool and soothing the pillowcase had felt against her cheek, the exhaustion and intoxication pressing her into the bed, limbs too heavy to move.
Fighting with Aidan, rebuffing his clumsy advances. Telling him she was too tired, too drunk, too unsure of where they stood, and him storming off to take a shower.
Falling into a fitful sleep, full of dreams where her throat was on fire, flames pouring from her mouth each time it opened.
Waking to the smell of Aidan’s sweat and his whiskey breath and his weight too much for her to fight against. The pounding in her head each time he drove into her. The way he didn’t hear –or didn’t care – when she begged him to stop.
Fleeing his apartment after he’d finished, rolled over, and fallen asleep as if she wasn’t even there. The cold cement curb beneath her as she sat on the side of the road and called Jeff to pick her up. Shame and anger and feeling so fuckingstupid.
If only she’d listened to the rumors and had never gotten involved with Aidan in the first place. If only she’d just gone home that night instead of back to Aidan’s apartment. If only she hadn’t had so much to drink. If only if only if only.
Min pulled free of Liam’s grasp and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to blot out the pictures, to shut down the memory, to drown herself in blackness.
She couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her, the sadness and anger all mixed up in those blue grey eyes. When the silence became too much, when she could feel it seeping into every crack and ripping apart everything good, she began again, speaking slowly at first and training her eyes on her hands in her lap again.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put myself in that situation. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I –“
“Stop.” His voice was tight, barely a voice at all it was so stiff and raw. “You don’t do that. You don’t apologize.”
There was a heavy pause. She almost screamed just to break the silence.
“I’m so sorry, Min,” his voice caught.
