Liam holds me close as I come down from the mind-blowing thing I’ve just experience.

Was that sex or something else? Because it didn’t feel like anything my girlfriends have described to me before. It didn’t even feel anything like the orgasms I’ve had at night when I fantasize about being taken, swept off my feet by a dirty-mouthed, sexy man like Liam.

What just happened has set my world on fire.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in my ear, holding me close, making me feel perfect. “You are so fucking lovely.”

Liam sighs deeply, and I suddenly can feel my heart pounding against his chest; I can feel his heart pounding against mine.

“And you are...really something else,” I say.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, his eyes smiling at me.

He holds me for what feels like an eternity, but it stops all too soon at the same time.

We pull away from each other, and it’s not awkward at all. Okay, so inside maybe I feel a bit strange, but it’s not a bad kind of strange. It’s just excitement and newness, and that’s because this all is exciting and new.

Liam is exciting and new.

“Here,” he says, picking his dress shirt up, “I know it was on the floor, but the floor is very clean. So clean you could eat off of it. So if you want to put this on, please do. I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

He starts to put the shirt on my shoulders, but I push him away gently and hop off the counter.

“No,” I say, “it’s okay. I actually kind of like being naked around you.”

“I knew you weren’t a prude. A virgin maybe, but not a prude.”

“Nope,” I say, walking away from him, popping my chin over my shoulder.

He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, holding me close, nuzzling his chin against the back of my neck as he sweetly pushes my hair away.

“I knew you’d like that,” he says. “Now let me fix a shower for you. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel good. I want to spoil you a little bit.”

“You don’t have heated floors in your bathroom by any chance, do you?”

“How’d you know?” he says, kissing me on the top of my head.

* * *

The bathroom is pure luxury. My bathroom at home is alright, or at least I thought it was before I saw this one.

The shower is hot and beats down hard on my skin, and it’s a little bittersweet to have my first shower after my very first time. I can still smell his cologne on me, feel his kisses on my thighs, and it’s all being washed away.

But I know that there will be more time with him.

And for a second, I really believe I am his girlfriend.

Like he said, we already like each other. But like he also said, he has no time for a girlfriend. Hell, that’s why I’m here to begin with.

After my shower, I step out of the big glass rectangle onto - yep, he has them - big, white, heated tiles that feel so decadent and like pure silk under my feet, even though they’re hard to the touch. They feel soft and smooth against my feet, and I suddenly realize how tired I am from the day, and how much my feet are aching from standing around in high heels almost every day for the past year.

I leave the en-suite bathroom and make my way into his bedroom, which is simple and modern and understated in its luxury. Everything is white and grey, and in the dim moonlight spilling through the large window, I can see the Empire State Building in Central Park.

Continuing into the bedroom, I go over to a simple, sleek mantle over a small television set. There’s a row of picture frames, and as I scan over each of them, I see an old, black and white photo of a two people sitting on a rock next to a creek, the man looking down and playing a guitar, the woman smiling at him with her toes in the water.

There’s another photo of Liam and another man who looks a lot like him, and is about his age, with another, older man.

“I see you’ve found my family secrets,” I hear Liam say behind me as he enters the room.

“It’s no secret that you have a family,” I say, picking up the second picture to get a closer look. “This is your brother and dad, isn’t it?”

“Yep, those are the guys,” he says, taking the picture frame gently. “They can be pricks sometimes, but I still love them. That’s why I have these pictures here.”

“And what about this one?” I say, pointing to the old black and white photo. “Who are these two?”

“Those are my mom’s parents,” he says, with obvious love in his voice. “They weren’t city people. As you can see from the picture, these were country people.”

He adds a cute little twang to his voice.

“Well,” I say, “they seem like very nice people.”

“They are. I don’t really see them all that much. I barely have enough time to see the people I actually work with. I should really go up to see them more often. Maybe you can come with me.”

“Me?” I say, wrapping my soft robe around me.

“Why do you say that like it’s a crazy idea?” he says, putting the picture frame down. “You’d like them. They’re not like me at all. My grandparents are definitely not the most tech-savvy people.”

“So now you’re comparing me to your grandparents?” I say. “Ouch.”

“Not in a bad way,” he says, putting his arms around my waist. “In a good way. They’re good people like you. I’m telling you, you’d like ‘em.”

“Do you think they’d like me?” I say.

“Oh baby, they would love you.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s go see them.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes my long wet hair behind my shoulders.

“We will. But first you have to meet my father.”