“Well that’s a fucking lie,” he bites out, voice dangerously low.
“Says who?”
His eyes flash with frustration as he slaps a hand to his chest and clutches at the fabric of his shirt. “Me. I know you!”
“Maybe I’m just that good at faking it. What if that’s who I really am and I’m just hiding it?” I fear it so much. So I run andI play pretend and I let Iris in as much as possible, but keep the heavy things to myself.
“I can tell when you’re faking it.”
“How?” I demand.
“Do you make dirty jokes with all your clients?”
“No. But it’s not like that matters.”
He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out the green notebook of his. “I know gifts make you uncomfortable, and that you make some of the best drinks in Manhattan. I know that you aren’t like them because they would just throw away old clothes when they’re damaged, but you treat them like pieces of art to be cared for. You care so deeply about strangers and leave people better than how you found them.” He stops reading and looks up at me. Clever fingers reach out and brush hair behind my ear, the touch cool against my blazing skin. “You fought for the life you have now and that’s something to be proud of. Fuck those assholes for making you feel like you’re anything like them. I know because I—”
I don’t want to hear the rest, so I seal my mouth against his. At first he’s stiff, but then his lips work against mine, meeting the rhythm of my urgency.
I need to shut him up so he’ll stop saying all these nice things about me that will make me care about him. Because no matter how good they feel to hear, that doesn’t change the fact that, at the end of this, I’ll be leaving him like I do with everyone else.
And I already know that Liam Hughes will be incredibly hard to walk away from. I don’t need to make it worse.
Hands in his hair. Him kneeling between my thighs. Yes, that’s what I need. More of it. No thoughts. Just his body and mine.
I’m trying to drown in him and he pulls away.
“Henri, really I—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “No. No more being sweet and kind and saying all the right shit. That’s my job and I nevermean what I say. This is supposed to be fun and feelings aren’t fun. They’re messy and sticky and complicate shit. So stop being nice to me and make good on the contract you have in your slutty little notebook and make me come.” I lower my hand and wait, promising myself that if he tries to confess something I’ll run out of the room, pack my bags, and buy the next ticket out of Colorado.
“Is that what you want Henri? To use me?” One hand abandons my leg to roam up under my shirt until he cups me over my thin lace bra, thumb teasing my nipple into a stiff peak.
“Yes.” And it damn near comes out of me as a whimper.
“Then use me. But I’m not going to stop being nice to you.” He kisses me, just a peck that has me following his lips for more. “I’m going to be so damn nice to you.”
“A nice man would get the door. We need to lock it,” I tell him, even as I attempt to shove down the swarm of butterflies that have chosen that exact moment to burst to life in my stomach. No one invited you, you damn insects.
“I locked it on my way in. Didn’t need anyone barging in on you,” he explains.
“No other reason?”
“A library is a great place to learn something new.”
“What’s next in the curriculum?” My voice comes out thin and airy as goose bumps spill across my skin.
“Tell me, what are you anxious about? You haven’t been with anyone since college. What do you want out of this?”
“I want to know how to not look like a fucking idiot,” I tell him through a self-effacing laugh.
“I’m going to tell you a secret,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he plants kisses, trailing from the base of my neck, up my jaw. “Sex is messy and awkward.”Kiss.“But good sex takes good communication.”Kiss.“Telling your partner what feels good, what hurts. If you like it when it hurts.”Kiss.“Helps you buildtrust and be comfortable.”Kiss.“So tell me, what do you want to do?”
My back arches, straining to press closer to him. “I want to suck you off. I want to know how to make you come just with my mouth and hands.” The request spills out of me and in response Liam groans against my skin. A hum of need sings through me.
“One condition.”
“Yes.”
