“Please, Liam.”
“Go to bed.” He crossed his arms and stared into the backyard.
I stared at his profile. The way the mask rubbed against his skin. In a way, it was symbolic of the distance between us. We’d hung out a few times, done dirty, deliciously depraved things, and yet we were basically strangers.
“I just need to tell you—”
With a harsh growl, Liam turned away. His gloved hand reached up and tore the mask from his face. I couldn’t see what was on the other side because he pushed through the swinging door to the hall.
I raced after him.
But he was already entering his home gym. By the time I reached the door, it was locked.
Dropping my head against the barrier, I whispered, “I just need to tell you I’m sorry.”
Liam wasn’t going to hit me. Yet my stupid body flinched. The image of the mask in his hand as he’d ripped open the gym doorplayed in my mind. How did I make him see I didn’t care what he looked like? That I was ready for the mask to come off.
What’s the point? I’m leaving.
And he would probably think that was because a scarred beast like him wasn’t worthy of me.
“You are,” I promised. “You’re a good man. And if there was a way I could stay, I would consider it.”
But that would mean leaving too big a piece of my heart behind. I would always be broken. Scarred on the inside.
***
I tossed and turned. It was after two before I finally threw back the covers. Liam wasn’t coming to bed.
“I have to do something,” I whispered to Storm.
The puppy snorted and rolled onto his back, half falling off the doggy bed on the floor.
Padding downstairs on bare feet, I checked the gym. The door was open, the space empty. So I went to the front sitting room. I didn’t need to turn on the phone flashlight. Liam was here. Ifelthim.
But he wasn’t in his armchair.
He laid on the couch, face buried in the pillow where I curled to read most days. I stepped right next to the couch and began to undress.
“What are you doing, little bird?” he rasped.
The scent of whiskey perfumed the air. The slim shaft of light from outside showed the bottle was on the coffee table, mostly full.
“Sit up,” I whispered.
He didn’t move.
“Please, Liam.”
He growled and turned away, ignoring the desperation in my voice.
There had to be something I could say to get through to him! I wracked my brains, wondering if I should start touching myself.
And then, it dawned on me.
Holding my breath and praying this worked, I crouched. Careful not to touch, I tried again.
“Please…master.”
