Six

Claudia

 

 

 

After arriving at the airport, we were whisked, if you could call it that, from the small airport toward his house in a jeep so old and small I thought it’d fall apart by the time we arrived wherever we were going. It lacked doors and a roof, only providing a roll bar across the top.

Comforting.

The roads were bumpy and could likely bounce me off the edge. I clung to the small metal bar next to my seat on the bench.

Liam took the whole thing in stride. Although he was most likely used to it.

“How often do you come here?” I asked him, as we bumped down the dirt road. Palm trees lined the road with the sprinkling mix of wild chickens wandering aimlessly.

A part of me was terrified, well outside my comfort zone.

The other part of me, the part that always wanted to travel to exotic places and away from the enclosures of five-star resorts, loved every thrilling minute.

“Not as often as I’d like,” Liam said. “Mostly during the holidays. My parents always wanted to travel to the Caribbean and could never afford it. So I fly them all down here at least once a year for vacation.” His look turned wistful as we rolled up to his gated house. “My sister, Sophie, and her kids love being here.”

His sweetness as he talked about his sister pulled me toward him. I could almost forget the salacious way he’d said “Whatever I want, whenever I want” on the plane.

Almost, not quite.

No. That was permanently etched into my brain and while he’d gone back to silent on the trip to his place until I decided, screw it.

He wanted something from me? I’d play the role. Why? Because I could.

If he thought I was some prissy little perfect princess who owed him, I’d be that for him.

I’d never been the seductress before, too concerned about my family’s reputation to consider marring it by ending up in jail or having some sex tape made of me by frat boys in college.

I’d spent my entire life living up to someone else’s expectations and demands. What was one more year?

Then I remembered what he’d said on the plane and heat crept to my cheeks, spreading to my chest. I blamed the sun.

Not the fact that he implied he’d take sex from me whenever he wanted because he could, which completely contradicted him implying he was innocent of raping a woman.

But if that’s what he wanted, I’d give it to him. Because why the hell not? I had nothing to lose. Not anymore.

As he unloaded our bags from the jeep and tipped the cab driver, I waited by the gate and followed him inside.

The courtyard was stunning. Palm trees and exotic bushes draped the paved, pebbled walkway led to a vibrant burnt orange door. The house, from what I could see, was all white stucco with pops of the orange on shutters around the windows.

“I had a service open up the house yesterday and air it out, clean it, and stock the fridge with food,” he said as he unlocked the door. “It should have everything you need, but if there’s something missing, let me know.”

“Okay—” I pulled to an abrupt stop. My mouth dropped so wide open I was surprised it didn’t hit the floor as soon as we stepped in. “Holy crap.”

His house was more stunning on the inside than out. White tiled floors, bright furniture. I barely saw any of it and was immediately pulled to the back of the house. Sweeping views of the ocean, the beach. An infinity pool that seemed to fall directly into the ocean from where I stood. A hot tub off to one corner and even a small Tiki-style bar were on one end.

“I’m going to need more swimsuits,” I whispered, pressing a hand to the glass window. “Wow. How do you ever manage to leave this place?”

A chuckle vibrated behind me. “Paradise? Eh. It’s nothing special.”

His voice was full of teasing and I turned to him, not realizing he’d walked up right next to me. I bumped him with my arm and stepped back. “So. What now?”

So much for seductive.

So close to me, Liam made it hard to speak. Or think rationally. My gosh, the guy was tall. Built. On his knuckles, I caught sight of the word Love.

I gawked at all of it, all of him, not realizing he was letting me.

He was just so beautiful. Large. How someone with his frame could make holding a guitar and crowing into a microphone seem so graceful was only a minuscule amount of his talent.

I watched an arm raise, moving as if in slow motion, perhaps I was just drunk on his ink and muscles and that minimal scent of him that wafted into the air and thrilled my senses. I jumped as his hand settled on my hip and my gaze darted to his.

“If you want to eye fuck the rest of my ink, all you have to do is ask.” His lips pulled into that smirk he’d given me on the plane.

Slap him. Kiss him.

My brain and my body didn’t know what to do with myself when he looked at me like that. Plus, he was touching me. He hadn’t done that before. A thrumming heat from where his hand settled on my wrinkled linen shorts spread to places untouched.

I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head. “No. Thank you.”

He laughed darkly. Richly. Good grief, he should come with a warning: Spontaneous combustion possible within twenty feet.

“Claudia.” My name off his lips was clipped and serious. The heat on my lower half made my movements slow, but I opened my eyes and stared at him. Gone was the playfulness. Seriousness took its place. “I’m not that guy. The guy in the papers. I didn’t touch that girl.”

“I believe you,” I rasped. And I realized I did.

“Good.” With a nod. He dropped his hand from my hip and stepped back. “Now, how about I give you the grand tour, then we can get some dinner and go for a swim?”