Seeking Justice (26 page)

He reaches to grip the front of his shirt, yanking me off balance so that I have to take a step forward.

“Do you want to leave, Caitlyn?” I frown. I don’t have a clue what he means. He lowers his head, bringing his face closer to mine. “Do you want to leave—go home?”

My frown deepens, and I search his beautiful eyes. “No.”

“Then shut the fuck up!”

My mouth drops open, and he releases his hold, turning to stride back to the bar. I feel as if he just slapped me. “I think I just changed my mind,” I mutter.

Turning, I head for the elevator.

The son of a bitch!

I spin on my heel and head back. He hasn’t moved from the bar, which pisses me off further.

“You are being an asshole!”

He turns to look at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You act like an ass to me when all I am trying to do is reach out to you. I know you’re angry, but it’s more than that, you’re hurting.” I’m pissed, but I know I need to calm down. “Since I first met you, you’ve been dealing with something, and I can see that. I haven’t pried, even though you’ve often taken that anger out on me.” I take a deep breath to steel myself against his blazing blue glare. “You get angry and use my body to alleviate that anger.”

He blinks.

“What? You think I didn’t notice?”

Even from across the room I can see the skin tighten around his eyes as he watches me warily. It would almost be funny if I weren’t so mad.

“So, what’s up with this,
You’re mine, You belong to me, You better never let another man touch you?
You own me? Is that what you think?” He does own me. I know it, and he knows it.

I am trying to control my anger, but my breathing is quick and shallow now.

“Right from the start, you said no expectations. I understood that. I mean, I am smart enough to know that a man like you—and someone like me—” I close my eyes and shake my head. I’m not doing this right. I’m probably not making sense at all. When I open my eyes, Liam is frowning. “I understood what you wanted from this… relationship, even though… I wanted more,” I admit softly. I’m suddenly not angry just—sad.

His expression doesn’t change. No surprise to him, he’s used to women wanting more.

“But then you started changing the rules, Liam, and I became more… invested.” My eyes fill with tears. Damn it, I can’t cry. I want him to take me seriously, and listen to what I have to say.

“I see when you’re upset, when something is bothering you. I can tell when you’re hurt and angry,” I whisper.

I sniff. His silence is making something inside of me wither.

“Liam”—I take a deep steadying breath—“you said that I helped you get through what you are dealing with, so if… if sex is how you cope… all that you need from me… I can do that for you.” He’s frowning hard now, an almost pained expression on his face, and I feel a tear slide down my cheek. “But please, stop making me believe that there can be more between us.” The last ends on a soft sob. “And if I screw up and forget the rules, asking why you’re upset—Don’t”—my angers back—“tell me to fuck off!”

I spin on my heel again and head for the elevator. I’m proud that I’ve held it together, and if I can just control the tears until I get out of here, I can let go then. Liam has a different idea though as he suddenly scoops me up into his arms.

“What are you doing? No! Put me down!”

I struggle, and I think I hit him on the head.

“Fuck, Cait!”

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and bury my face against his neck. “I don’t want to cry,” I cry.

“Shhh, baby, I don’t want you to cry either.”

I let loose then. I’m a blubbering mess as he cradles me in his arms. We remain that way until the tears subside, and then he carries me back through the apartment. He shifts me slightly and reaches to open a door, and then he’s climbing stairs, clutching me tightly as he opens another door, and we step outside. I can smell the night air and feel the cool breeze on my skin. He’s walking again, and then he sets me down, pulling my arms from his neck.

I look around as he steps away from me, wiping my nose on his shirt sleeve. I’m sitting on some type of bed, I think with a canopy above me. It’s dark, but I see lights from buildings in the distance. Wherever we are, we’re up high.

Small clear lights come on and there are a lot of them outlining the perimeter of where we are. There are also tiny twinkling lights in the potted exotic plants placed around the area.

I frown. I’m on a bed with a canvas canopy over the top, and white billowy curtain sides, almost like a tent. More of the same tiny lights outline the frame of the canopy. It’s beautiful. The breeze blows gently, creating a twinkling effect with the lights.

I look behind me, and Liam stands at the other end of the bed. He’s watching me.

“Where are we?” I sniff.

He steps close picking me up once more to step back to the head of the bed, sitting down, with me in his arms, his back against the iron headboard. “We’re on the roof. It’s my—I come up here sometimes.”

I glance around us. “It’s beautiful with the lights… and the stars.”

“Yes.” His arms tighten around me. “You can see more stars up here away from the street lights and—the glare of life.”

I look up at him. He uses this place, this quiet place as a type of escape. “I love it,” I say softly. A lone tear escapes, trailing down my cheek produced from the overwhelming emotions running rampant through me. I feel battered from the onslaught of emotions that I’ve had to deal with throughout this day. And my heart aches for this man I have come to love so deeply.

Liam uses his thumb to catch the tear. “I thought you were finished.”

I sniff again. “Me too.”

“Please don’t cry anymore,” he says gruffly.

“I’ll try.” I shiver slightly, pressing closer as the slight breeze picks up. Liam reaches over to pull the bed cover over me. “I-I need to get these heels off.” I slip off his lap to sit beside him and pull up my leg to unbuckle the strap.

“Let me,” he says as he leans forward pushing my fingers aside. He nimbly loosens the strap to slip off my heel. His hand massages my foot, and I grit my teeth to stifle my moan. He quickly reaches for the other foot, repeating the process. I’m unable to quiet my moan this time.

“Stockings?”

I nod. He turns and slowly slides a stocking down one leg and then the other, caressing each leg. I bite my lip.

I scoot back against the headboard and pull the blanket up, holding it back for Liam to sit beside me. He smiles wryly. When he leans back against the headboard, I scoot close against him.

“It’s peaceful up here. I like it,” I say softly.

We sit quietly then, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves of the tree tops. Much of the noise of the busy city night, one block away, is muffled up here. I lean my head on Liam’s shoulder. I feel the need to touch him. Liam sighs deeply, and I look up to meet his gaze. His eyes look dark blue in the subdued lighting. A corner of his mouth lifts and he leans over to kiss the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” I snuggle closer. “I meant what I said,” I say softly. “If you need… if it helps—”

“Hey.” I look up. He shakes his head and then he slides his arm underneath my shoulders, he pulls me in even closer. He suddenly slides down, pulling me with him until we’re both lying on the bed. He turns on his side to face me, and I do the same.

“Cait… you have no fucking idea how much I need you.”

Oh.

He leans over to place a soft kiss on my mouth. I lift my hand to trail my fingers across his jawline. His dark scruff is so soft. I frown. We really know so little about each other.

Liam smooth’s his fingers across my forehead, and as if he reads my thoughts, he asks, “Do you talk to your parents?” He surprises me with his question.

“Yes, every Sunday. I call and talk to them. Occasionally, through the week but my mom… she stays busy with my dad and it’s tiring for him… talking on the phone. He’s an invalid.” Liam’s gaze meets mine. “He developed Chronic Fatigue Syndrome that leaves him bedridden and quite ill at times. It’s a terrible disease that is nothing like its name implies.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

I shrug. “We never let ourselves dwell on the bad side of his illness. My parents insisted that we live as if his illness were an annoyance, not a tragedy.”

“What do you mean,” He reaches to tuck my hair behind my ear, his knuckles caressing my cheek.

“Mostly we just never fussed over what he could or couldn’t do. They insisted that I never use his illness as a reason not to do what I wanted. After I left home, I realized that they made everything about me.” I shake my head and give a little laugh, still in awe how they managed that without me realizing it.

“They weren’t able to go to any school functions or other activities, but they made sure I attended everything I needed and wanted to. They were interested in everything I did and insisted on sharing every experience. My mom and I would have our evening meal in Dad’s room.” I smile. “I had to tell them everything that happened during my day.” I grin at the memory.

“They pushed me to strive for what I wanted and to work hard for my education, encouraging me to be independent and to make my own decisions at a young age. They taught me to never feel guilty about leaving them and living my life.” I smile wistfully. “My dad said the real tragedy in it all would have been if I’d become a prisoner of his disease.”

“They sound very wise and loving.”

“They are,” I say softly.

“How long has he been ill?”

“Since I was twelve.”

Liam frowns. “Twelve years,” he mutters softly.

“Yes,” I whisper. I know he’s thinking of his mother. He looks sad. “You said your mother passed twelve years ago?” His expression is suddenly guarded, and it’s silly of me, but that hurts my feelings. I lower my eyes, so he can’t see the hurt.

He sighs heavily and rolls to his back, slinging his arm over his face. “Don’t do that, darlin’.”

“Do what?”

“Let my inability to open up to you—hurt you.” He lowers his arm and turns his head to look at me.

“Do you open up to… any of your friends?” I ask my voice barely above a whisper. He’s known Miranda a long time. Does he confide in her? I feel raw jealousy at the thought.

“I don’t need to—they were there when the shit went down.”

He reaches over and hooks a long curl of my hair, winding it around his finger. I watch as he studies it in deep concentration, a crease between his brows. “This is what you’ve done to my heart,” he says softly.

I blink. “What?” I breathe.

“You’ve wrapped yourself around it darlin’.” His mesmerizing blue eyes look up to capture me in their hypnotic glow.

I can’t breathe. I’m caught in a blue net as the world around us disappears. Liam rises to lean over me, and then he’s taking my mouth in a deep, slow kiss. My arms twine around his neck, and I reach up to run the fingers of one hand through his hair. He works the buttons of his shirt open and brings his mouth down to suck strongly on a taut nipple as his hand moves between my legs to my center. My back arches, and I moan as he sinks two fingers deep into my channel.

He bites down and then releases my nipple slowly from between his teeth.

Pleasure/pain.

I gasp softly when he lifts up slightly, his medallion landing between my breasts. It feels hot from his body heat and not for the first time, I feel as if it sears his mark on me.

“Fuck, I love how tight and wet you are for me.”

I cry out softly as his mouth comes down to latch on the opposite nipple. His fingers spread apart inside of me, rubbing against my vaginal walls. He pulls his fingers out to slide along my slit, over my sensitive nub, massaging the bundle of nerves that lie in that tiny epicenter. He works me into a frenzy, sucking, biting, and pulling my turgid nipples as his fingers fuck me relentlessly.

“Don’t come,” he orders. I mewl softly as I writhe on the bed beneath him.

“Liam!” I cry as I feel my insides tighten. He stills the movement of his fingers, and I tighten my inner muscles around them.

His eyes glitter as he looks down at me. “You do not come until I say,” he warns in a hard voice.

“Okay,” I say softly. I pray that I don’t.

I whimper as he pulls his fingers from between my legs and then quickly stands beside the bed. He holds my gaze as he unzips his jeans, his erection jutting out at me.

Coming back down on the bed, he lies on his back, pulling me over on top of him.

Oh
.

“Sit up.” His voice is husky, sexy.

I straddle him, and he quickly lifts me up and pulls me forward until I’m above his face.

“Up on your knees, sugar.”

Holy hell!

I reach a hand out to grip the headboard to steady myself.

He spreads me open with his fingers, and when he raises his head to suck on my clit, I gasp and grab the headboard with both hands. He sucks and pulls the sensitive nub into his mouth, and I almost come right then.

“Liam!”

“Don’t come, darlin’.”

“Argh!” He sucks more firmly on my clit as it elongates. When he bites down, I cry out, and a shudder starts from deep within working its way up my body. My back bows, and I grip the headboard, holding on for dear life.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.

Liam sucks hard and it almost hurts. He’s gripping my bottom painfully, but it helps me to center my thoughts there on that discomfort and not on the fact that I desperately need to come.

When his finger presses against my cheeks, pushing into my anal passage, I try to jerk away, crying out hoarsely. That does hurt and not in a good way.

Liam releases my engorged clit. “Hold still, Caitlyn!” He growls, his grip tightening on my bottom.

I mewl and lay my head on the rim of the headboard as I pant.

“I want you to hold still. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whine. I’m biting my lip so hard I taste blood.

“Do not move and do not come,” he says firmly.

“Liam, please,” I beg in a whisper.

“You can do it, sugar.”

He licks from my opening along my slit to draw my fully exposed clit back into his mouth. “Fuck!” he mutters around my clit. At the same time, he presses his finger back into my backside.

“Oh!” It hurts. I pant, trying to control my body’s natural response to pull away. I fight it, but I still lean slightly up and away from the pressure of his finger.

“Don’t move!” he growls.

His fingers slide over my opening, smearing my wetness between my cheeks. He does this several times before he presses his finger into me again. I don’t know at what point it starts to feel good but when it does, it feels really good. My body no longer belongs to me. It’s under its own rule. I can no longer control my movements. A fine sheen of sweat covers me, and the cool night breeze is the only thing keeping me from combusting.

My body moves against the firm thrust of his finger in and out of my anal passage.

I can feel Liam watching me as I grip the headboard. I’m on my knees, my head thrown back in sexual abandon.
Oh!
It feels so good.