I pushed my chair away from my desk, rolling across my study on its wheels. My heart was using my chest as a drum, and I could feel wrath, anger and rage making my head pound. If I’d bothered to look in a mirror I was pretty sure there would be steam coming out of every orifice imaginable.
“Fucker.”
A black cab was passing my apartment block. The driver clearly sensed my desperation and pulled over, knocking off his light. I smiled and gave the address to Liam’s home, dodging his questions and being as vague as I could, as dumping on him withI’m actually on my way to murder my fake fiancéprobably wasn’t what he expected to hear when he asked me if I was going anywhere nice.
The doorman buzzed me in and I took the lift to the top floor, planning out several first sentences that I wanted to say, all very polite and to the point, with no suggestion of bruised balls, twisted nipples or being buried under the Thames.
I knocked on his door as it opened, the doorman clearly extremely efficient.
Liam stood there, one hand in the pocket of his sweats, his chest on display for anyone to see and at that moment that anyone was me.
14
Liam
She looked annoyed. When Sophie was mad she tried to look even more put together and professional than usual, covering what she was feeling with a mask. Tonight that mask wasn’t there.
Her arms were folded, her back ramrod straight and there was a blaze in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. It looked good on her.
A slight, smooth hand went to my chest and pushed me backwards into my apartment. She slammed the door behind her without even having to look at where things were and she continued to push me backwards towards a door – and clearly any door.
“I take it you saw the revised plans.”
Her mouth opened and no words came out.
I stopped a grin from appearing, mainly because I wanted to keep up this pretence of the change of plans being true. They weren’t. I was bored and decided that irritating her would be better entertainment than watching something on Netflix or heading down to a bar where I’d just cause more problems for myself.
“I’m happy to discuss them, but they do provide better space for the recording studio…”
Her flat palm morphed into a pointed finger with which she poked me in the chest. Hard. To be fair, she was small enough for me to pick up with one arm and dump her outside if I wanted, but the fact she was speechless was enough to put up with the minor bruise she’d probably leave.
I laughed, finding myself backed into my bedroom which was probably the last place she wanted to be. The bed was unmade – I never saw the point - and a couple of pairs of old jeans were chucked on the floor.
I sat on – well, was pushed onto – the bed at around the same time Sophie found her voice.
“This isn’t going to work. You cannot change things without consulting me and us agreeing.”
I was pushed flat onto the bed. Sophie’s knees were now either side of mine; she was pretty much straddling me.
“You are also not allowed to be this fucking untidy. This room looks like it belongs to a teenaged boy.” She sat on my legs. I’d already noticed that her eyes were flicking between my chest and my face, as if she was determined not to perv.
It wasn’t working.
What was working was my dick. It had clearly remembered the last time Sophie had been sitting on me like this, a time when he’d been very happy, so his reaction now was exactly what a teenaged boy would have.
Or a fully grown adult man with a gorgeous woman sitting on top of him.
My hands grabbed her hips. I was done with thinking.
“Seriously, Liam. The original plans were fine…” Her hands were on my chest. Her tone had mellowed.
And if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d started to slightly rock her hips.
“They were.” I lifted a hand and threaded it into her hair.
“So why did you change them?”
Our mouths met. I flipped her onto her back, caging her in. Nails that I figured she’d had sharpened for the sole purpose of making her mark on my skin dug into my back.
