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I definitely needed to get out of here. My body was letting me down hard tonight. First with the stairs and now with that pulling, tight desire that swirled in my belly as Liam moved closer once more. He blocked Ian’s view, leaning in enough that I could smell the tangy scent of his cologne in my nose. It was spicy, potent, exactly like I imagined he would taste.
Fuck. I should not be thinking about this man’s taste right now. Maybe I did really have a concussion. Nothing I couldn’t handle at home with a very large aspirin.
“I’m not trying anything, Ashlyn. Please let me make up for how I treated you earlier. I can sleep on the couch or in the spare bedroom. I just want to be sure someone’s close in case you need something.”
I snorted. That was the worst pickup line I'd ever heard in my life. But then, Ididhave a headache, and Iwaspretty bruised up…and his spare bedwasright there. Temptation fluttered across my chest as I hesitated.
“I mean it, Ashlyn. Let me take care of you.” Liam’s voice was hushed. His body curled toward me, reminding me of the way he’d held me, comforted me. Unwittingly, I swayed toward him. It’d been so long since a man had expressed this kind of interest in me. As much as I wanted to downplay his player mentality and layers of charm, I couldn’t deny the fact that he was very good at what he did.
“You barely know me. How can you just ask me to sleep over here?” I whispered at him. I was incredulous.
“And what better way to get to know somebody? You want to sign that NDA you send over?” he teased lazily.
I jabbed a finger in his chest And glared at him. “You better not try anything. Hands to yourself, Macklen.” I hoped I sounded more convincing than I felt.
His lips quirked. “Beautiful as you are, Ashlyn, bruises and scrapes aren’t really my style.”
I gaped at him.
Uncaring, he smirked at me before guiding Ian toward the door. He clenched that chiseled jaw right as he looked at me.
“Not that I don’t love this dress on you.” Briefly that heat from earlier bloomed in his eyes, making my chest tight. “But if you’d like to change into something more comfortable, or at least something that’s not torn up, there should be sweats in the top drawer.” He gestured offhandedly at the chest of drawers in the corner.
He and Ian left. With a huff, I shuffled to the door, shutting it as quickly as my sore body could. With a groan, I covered my face with my hands. I was never drinking again. At least around curbs.
This night had gone completely off the rails. And now, somehow I was having a slumber party with my client. I’d told Cici I could handle him, that I could handle this deal. Here I was, half-dressed and stuck somewhere between turned on and furious about the whole thing.
Cici would’ve been horrified, but she would’ve at least gotten a great laugh out of this. Unable to stop it, a smile passed over my lips. At least his home was lovely. Staring down at the hot mess that was my body, I then looked hungrily at the bathroom door, which was partially open.
A shower, I sighed dreamily. I really shouldn’t take advantage, but the soft lighting of the shower beckoned me ever closer. Surely someone like him wouldn’t mind if I hopped in. Just for a minute. It would be more offensive to ruin his beautiful white sheets with the myriad of street dirt that adorned my body.
Mind made up, I slipped into the bright-tiled bath and quickly turned the shower on. While the water warmed, I looked around.
The bathroom was massive. Easily double—no, triple the size of my little apartment shower at my place. And let’s not even get into the heated tile floors and expansive hotel-style vanity, with its double sinks and brightly lit mirrors. Glancing in the mirror, I grimaced. I’d done a real number on myself. I tugged the dress off, cringing at the sore spots already turning purple and blue. The rainwater showerhead came to life with the flick of a switch, and steam immediately rolled through the shower.
I typically took showers that would make Lucifer himself jump, but between the shots from earlier and the way Liam looked, I didn’t need anything else heating my blood tonight. Not to mention I wasn’t excited about the twinging scratches on my knees, ankles and elbows.
The water was like heaven, and I let myself indulge in one of the tiny soaps that were piled up at the sink. The smell was magnolia, and it immediately brought back memories of summers playing in my front yard at home. After I rinsed my hair and took off as much makeup as I could, I stepped out and wrapped myself in one of the luxurious towels hanging neatly by the shower door.
God, it felt good to be clean. I finger-combed my hair, brushing it back from my face as I gingerly made my way back into the guest room.
With a soft sigh, I movedto the dresser. I yanked open the top drawer, expecting storage clothes or even piles of knickknacks. After all, that’s what my parents’ guest room had always held. All the junk that we didn’t know where else to put.
But Liam’s drawer was different. Several pairs of soft athletic pants were folded neatly on top. I grabbed a dark-gray pair that had a drawstring to make up for any size difference. I closed the drawer then stood there listening. Liam must’ve made it to the kitchen, because the penthouse was silent around me. Unable to stop myself, I opened the next drawer over.
It was underwear. Specifically, men’s underwear. Closing it quickly, I covered my mouth. I looked to the bed, noting the half-full glass of water on the nightstand, the slightly flattened pillow on the right side of the bed.
Oh my God. This wasn’t a guest room. It was his room. And I’d been in here, just making myself completely at home. I’d used the man's soap, for God's sake. I was a bona fide monster.
Tucking the joggers up my legs, I quickly found another drawer with a number of worn, vintage-wash tees, yanking on the first one I found.
Swallowing, I gathered my courage and what little dignity I had left after everything that had gone on and opened the door. I was ready to make amends.
