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26
CERYS
The temperature didn’t droplast night, and the sticky humidity makes lying naked next to Liam more acceptable. I snuggle into him and rest my head on his warm chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. Liam shifts and encompasses me in his arms, burying his face in my hair. The bed smells of him. Us. Sex.
“Good morning,” he whispers, soft lips moving against my forehead.
“You’re still here,” I murmur.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I rest my palms on his chest and look up at his tired face. “I don’t know. I guess I half-expected you to run away again.”
“Why run? There’s no five year old to shock when she sees me walking out of her mum’s bedroom,” he says.
“Ella...” She’s never far from my thoughts and guilt twinges as I glance at the bedside clock. 11 a.m. “I should call Phoebe; I promised I’d pick Ella up early.”
Liam’s clothes lie on the floor and images of last night flood back, how the frantic sex turned into his gentle kisses and leisurely exploration of my body, and then to things I wouldn’t dream of doing with Craig.
Liam pushed us into a dizzying plane of pleasure I never knew existed, telling me again and again how I belonged to him. Finally ending in the early hours, Liam looked down at me with a sincerity and tenderness that pushed tears from my eyes as we finally exhausted the need we’d held back.
Liam tore apart my heart and soul then put them together again with a piece of himself inside. He was right. After last night, I’m his.
“I should shower and pick up Ella.”
“Now who’s running away?” he asks and laces his hands behind his head.
The tattoo running across his chest to his shoulder is newer than in the pictures on my old bedroom wall. His ink blends into one canvas of colour across and continues down his arms, a strange collection of pictures and words. Of course, there’s a phoenix, soaring across his torso with the tail feathers heading toward his muscled abs. I drag a fingernail down the length of the bird and across the tight muscles.
How do I really feel about what I did last night? Slightly sore considering how long since I had anyone in my bed, and before then quickly and not repeatedly.
“You can hang around until I come back. If you want to, I mean,” I say hesitantly.
“Of course I want to! I’m not disappearing after last night.” He sits and kisses my arm. “Shower. I’ll make breakfast.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I say and giggle as he pokes me and pulls a sour face.
Refreshed by my shower but anxious to dress and collect Ella, I throw on a pair of cotton shorts and a sleeveless top then grab my phone to call Phoebe.
“Phoebe, I’m sorry, I’m running late. Is Ella okay?”
“Don’t stress, she’s fine.” Phoebe pauses. “Late night with your rock star?”
I’m glad she’s not in the room to see me blush. “A little. I slept in.”
“I bet you did! Naughty...”
“Phoebe!”
“Seriously, as long as you had fun, I’m happy.”
“I’ll be there in about an hour. Is that okay?”
“Of course! She’s playing in the garden with Jordan. No trouble at all.”
Despite her reassuring words, I want to collect Ella as soon as I can. I don’t want her to feel abandoned; I’ve never left her alone overnight.
The relief Phoebe isn’t annoyed with me evaporates when I walk downstairs. Craig is sitting on the sofa. He greets me with a dark expression—one I’m too familiar with. I glance behind him. Liam has his back to us, in the kitchen. Shirtless.Crap.
