Slowly, he dropped his hand from the knob and turned back to Min, his face etched in agony. And something inside her broke at the realization that he hated all those things, too.
She flung herself into his arms, plastering her mouth to his. He met her in a collision of grasping hands and bruising kisses. She kissed him like she’d never get the chance to again, like she would tattoo the feeling of him across her skin. He bit her lower lip, sharply enough for her breath to catch as she dug her fingertips into his back.
They crashed around the room until she settled against the vanity. She tore at his belt as he pulled her leggings and panties down to her knees, thrusting a finger inside her to test if she was ready for him. A few rough strokes of his finger and she moaned against him, leaving biting kisses along his throat.
She needed him. Now. Hard and fast, brutal and biting. Because when everything else hurt, the sex should, too. Because even if they were breaking apart, they still fit together.
Liam’s cock jutted from the opening of his dress pants, proud and angry and turgid with need. She gripped him at the base and spread her legs as wide as she could with her leggings still bunched around her knees. But it was enough. He thrust inside her, and she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out.
He leaned back, lifting her face to his and searching her eyes, and she saw the tenderness beneath the swirl of destruction. She saw that even as he wanted to fuck her until she hurt, he wanted to keep her from any pain. Her chest ached with the onslaught of love and fear coursing through her. So she kissed him and urged him to make it hurt. Because the hurt was better than the distance. At least in the hurt, they were there together.
Liam pumped into her ruthlessly, slamming his hips into hers with the frenzy of one possessed, the teeth of the zipper at his open placket digging into her thighs with every thrust. He bit her earlobe and pressed his thumb to her clit with a pressure that bordered on pain.
Her whole body felt like a raw nerve, a mass of feeling too bright and sharp to pinpoint any one sensation. And still she despaired as she felt her orgasm closing in, felt Liam’s rhythm grow erratic and his grunts vibrate deeper in his chest. It wasn’t enough.God, will it ever be enough?
She came with a muffled cry, her thighs trembling and the muscles of her abdomen contracting painfully just a moment before he sheathed himself to the hilt and filled her. They froze, suspended in the moment of excruciating ecstasy and clinging to each other as the final tremors of their orgasms subsided. Liam pressed a searing kiss to her forehead before pulling from her body, his cock still hard as he tucked himself back into his pants.
It would never be enough.
Chapter Thirty-five
Min hardly remembered performing. She had a vague recollection of each costume change, of Jeff helping zip up her dress for theManon, of Ivy’s excited squeal from the audience as she stood under the spotlight in Bobby’s arms. She knew it had gone well – the applause and Jeff’s beaming smile told her so. But all she remembered was the tortured look on Liam’s face as she sang goodbye to that little table, the way his eyes burned into her, the way he dropped his arms at the end as if he were defeated.
She sat in her dressing room in a daze, wiping the makeup from her face with the cold towelette from her toiletry kit. Her limbs felt heavy, even though she’d stripped down to just her corset and leggings. Tired.Mourning, she thought.This feels like mourning.Her cheeks flushed, hot and embarrassed.There’s nothing to mourn, she told herself. Nothing had been lost. Nothing had changed. But her heart knew it for the lie it was.
Rob and Heather would be waiting in the lobby for her, Ivy likely growing antsy and tired this close to dinner time. But she didn’t want to go out there yet. She grabbed her cell phone and fired off a quick text. Three small words. She knew it wasn’t fair – his face from the podium told her how unfair it was – but in that moment, she didn’t care.
Min:I need you.
She watched the status change from delivered to read and then set her phone aside, forcing herself to focus as she carefully removed her mascara. It was only seconds before her dressing room door opened and closed.
If she’d been looking in the mirror, she would have seen him. But she wasn’t. Her eyes were cast down at her shaking hands. So it wasn’t until she smelt him that she knew something was wrong.
He smelled of… whiskey.
Min snapped her head up to see Aidan standing behind her in the mirror. Her skin grew hot and too tight, all the air sucked from the room.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Didn’t you hear, babe?” he asked. “This is my theater now.”
She caught the slight slur on the ‘s’ and winced. “Please go.” She returned to her work, methodically wiping streaks of makeup from her face, turning the towelette into a mess of nude and pink, black and purple. But she never took her eyes off of the man in the mirror.
Aidan smirked at her, calling her bluff. “Missed you,” he said.
The anger flashed through her, sharp and brittle, and she grasped it with both hands. “No, you didn’t,” she said. “Let’s not pretend I was ever anything more than a game to you.”
He planted his hands on her shoulders and leaned down, his weight driving her down as he spoke directly into her ear. The alcohol on his breath stung her nose as she struggled to breath in, her chest suddenly tight, lungs refusing to fill.
“I know a game we can play,” he said.
He met her eyes in the mirror again, his gaze unfocused in a look she knew all too well. A look that said he wanted something, and he intended to have it.
“Please go,” she said again, determined to keep her voice steady, not to betray how badly every cell in her body was screaming. How she felt like she might shake apart at any moment. How she might hyperventilate and pass out right there if he didn’t give her some goddamn room to breathe.
“I like when you beg, babe,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.
She wanted to fight him.Shit, I should be able to fight him. But her body wouldn’t obey, as if her muscles had forgotten how to respond, just like her vocal cords had forgotten how to vibrate together and scream. She couldn’t do anything but try to breathe, her chest struggling to rise and fall, pressing uselessly against the boning of her corset.
