CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It’s hard to say goodbye to Brie when Marta comes to pick her up. The old woman has a triumphant look on her face, like she knows something we don’t. I fight the urge to tell her the fuck off. But I know we’ve hurt the case enough—by throwing together a marriage, by giving these CPS people fuel for their own fire. A million little things we should have done differently.
She’s the catalyst that started this whole thing, at least in Liam’s mind. With all that I’ve done for Liam, I’m holding desperately onto the idea that we can save Brie. That we can save this family.
I pace around the apartment, kicking off my shoes. I sit on the edge of the bed and lie back on it. The ceiling has that popcorn type paint on it. It’s ugly, but I’m getting used to it. I lie there and look at it, trying to clear my head of everything—Brie, Liam, the women who came here this morning.
“This is a lot for you to deal with, Skye. I know that.”
I look up and see Liam at the door of the bedroom, his dark eyes cool and distant.
“It’s not. I just want to see it work out. And now it feels like we know even less than we did last week.”
“All this with the ‘we.’ And ‘our.’” His voice has that wry tone to it, the way it does when he’s teasing me.
I swallow hard, trying to read him. “What does that mean to you, Liam? You said you might want to have me around. What are you saying? Tell me.”
“I’m saying I might want you here. For as long as you want to be here. It feels like we’re in this battle together now. I don’t know if you’d want to stay—”
“I don’t know either.” I look away to the window, so I don’t betray my own feelings. I know very well what I want. And I probably wanted it since the very first time I walked up to his apartment. The first moment he looked at me, the first time he touched me. But what he’s proposing is less a relationship and more a marriage of convenience. With hot sex. Very hot sex. But still, is there something else I deserve—something beyond this? There isn’t a commitment here, not a real one. There’s a signed piece of paper, sitting somewhere in a courthouse, but it could be dissolved in an instant with a quick divorce. That’s what we agreed on. We didn’t agree to the vows we said—until death do us part. That was just something we said. Not something we meant.
I keep myself turned away. If I look at him, all my rational thoughts vanish and become a jumble.
“I think you want to.” I can feel him looking at me, and I hear his footsteps as he walks toward the bed. “Look at me, Skye.”
I follow the sound of his voice, my eyes meeting his. “And what if I do want to? Does that mean that we’re a couple? That this is real? That it means forever?”
“I don’t know,” he says simply. “I’ve never had anything like that before. Like I said. Not with Tabitha. Not with any of the other women I’ve ever known. This relationship—this marriage—it provides real stability for Brie. It might mean the difference between temporary and permanent custody. It might mean that she has something to hold onto, something real to come home to.” His voice wavers, full of emotion. This isn’t the man I met back at the bar—he’s changed, grown. “Skye, I want you here. It’s not just for Brie.”
I let out a quick breath. “I care about you, Liam. I do. But we rushed into this. And there’s Marta. And the women from CPS. And the courts. I agreed to it—but it’s heavy. A lot fucking heavier than I thought it would be.”
“Let me make it clear. I want you to stay, Skye. I want you to change your fucking name so that there aren’t any more questions. And I want you to cancel the lease on your apartment in Brooklyn.” He shrugs. “Queens seems a little nicer than that shithole, anyway.”
My heartbeat speeds up, blood rushing through my veins. “Liam, think about what you’re saying. The life you had before—”
“Wasn’t much of a life. The women came and went, and I was living free above the bar. That place doesn’t even have good water pressure. Or a dishwasher.”
“That’s what this is about—” I feel the irritation rising up in me again, like it does with this man.
“No. Well, the shower and dishwasher here are just bonuses. But if you leave and go back home, then it’s just an empty box.”
“And if Brie moves in? If she doesn’t?”
“If she moves in, she’ll want you here too. If she doesn’t, you need to stay. I’ll need you to help me fight it.”
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? All that stuff you said about Brie. The stability and the judges and all that. That’s always what it’s been about, and you said it from the beginning. If I stay, that helps make it stick.”
“It does.” He looks at me evenly. “But it’s more than that, too.”
“We’re talking in circles, Liam. Saying the same thing over and over again, and it makes me so tired. I’m exhausted.” I turn over on the bed, my body still facing away from him. “I get that this is fun for you, and it has been for me, too. But we’re coming up on the hearing, and there’s going to be a decision one way or another. And then we’ll need to make a real decision about us.”
“I’ve made my decision,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “I want you here. How many times do I have to say it.”
Sunlight filters in through the window screens, and there’s a slight breeze from the spring wind outside. It feels comfortable and real, but the foundation of this relationship isn’t either of those things. It was based on lust and excitement and adventure—not just for me, but for both of us. This place, this marriage, this quest to get his girl back—all these things have occupied Liam’s mind. Over women. Over alcohol. Over the bar. When the dust settles and all the shiny veneer wears off, there won’t be anything left.
Still, even on a morning like this, when the threat of failure looms closer than ever, Liam’s gaze on my body sends shivers down my spine, singing through every cell in my body. It’s a distraction, the pull between us. It’s why we’re both here right now, why we got wrapped up in each other’s lives.
“So?” He steps over to the bed and falls down next to me. His hands go to my waist, and he pulls me around to face him. “What do you say?”
“To what?”
“Giving me a chance. A real one. Living here.”
I laugh. “I think marrying you counts as giving you a chance. Don’t you?”
“Nah,” he says. He kisses my neck and works his way down to my shoulder. “It has to be official. You and me. In a relationship.”
“I’d call this a relationship. I live here,” I say. “We have sex. You deflowered me on our wedding night. It’s close enough.” I grin, and heat rises over my chest.
“Deflowered is a fancy word for what I did. I fucked you silly. Made it so you couldn’t stand straight the next day.”
“You did.” I can still feel it—that sweet, aching soreness between my thighs. The way I couldn’t walk quite right the next day, how opened and vulnerable I felt.
“I didn’t think fucking a virgin would be that good. I hadn’t done that since high school.” One hand moves between my legs, finding the wetness soaking through my panties. “A sweet little virgin.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not anymore.” I whimper as his fingers gently pinch my clit through the soaking fabric.
“Not what? A virgin? I guess you aren’t. I do wish I could do it all over again. The way you looked at me when I put my cock inside that tight little pussy the first time—that was fucking magical.”
“Magical? Since when did you get so romantic?”
“That’s not romance. That’s the fucking truth. I’d do it again just to see that look.”
I laugh. He’s already tugging at my panties, one hand roaming over my ass, the other pushing my panties to the side and dipping a finger inside me.
“That’s not how it works. You can’t take someone’s virginity twice.” He slips a second finger inside of me and squeezes my ass. I whimper, and my eyes start to roll back in my head. When he touches me, it’s like he’s taking me to some other place, like I’m leaving my own body. Like none of the things I was thinking about before matter in the least. Not right now.
“I think I can, little girl. I’ve been toying with the idea.”
My face grows hot. “I’m a little girl, now, am I?”
“You are.” He flips me around, and he pulls my panties down to my knees. “And you’re still a virgin. My virgin.”
“No, I’m definitely not. I think you’ve got that wrong.” Deft fingers unhook my bra, and his hands go to my breasts, squeezing them, trailing down my body to the cleft of my sex.
“You’re dripping wet. A nice little girl wouldn’t be dripping wet like that. But you’re greedy for my cock, aren’t you? You’re desperate for it.”
My breath hitches in my throat. It feels too far, like we’re skirting the edges of what we should be doing. And I can feel his cock getting hard against my ass. I gulp. “I’m not a good girl.” I pause.
My whole body feels like it’s on fire—red hot with shame and excitement and that feeling we’ve crossed over some edge.
“But you are a little virgin.”
“No, I’m not.” I swallow hard, but I want to say it again. “I’m not a virgin anymore. Because you fucked me.”
He groans, and I feel him stroking himself behind me. He thrusts his entire cock into my dripping wet pussy in one fluid movement, filling me to the brim. It’s hot, and tight, and stretches me far beyond my limit. Every time he enters me, I feel like I almost can’t bear to take any more.
“There’s not just one type of virgin, baby,” he says. His voice thick with desire. His hand finds my neck and holds it, the pressure heavy enough to give the slightest hint of danger. Fingers trail down my body as his cock rams inside of me, filling me brutally with each thrust. His thumb finds my asshole and presses against it slightly, adding a new sensation to his cock filling me again and again. “I told you you were mine. Your pussy. Your mouth. Your ass.”
I moan as he presses his thumb into my asshole. There’s resistance, but it gives way, opening me in an entirely new way as he continues to throttle my pussy.
“I’m going to make you totally mine today, little girl.”
I groan, offering no protest. This is never something I would have considered with Charlie—or anyone else that my parents might have deemed more appropriate for me.
His thumb works against me. “Are you ready for this?” He thrusts inside of me again, moaning. “It feels like you are. You’re so fucking wet for me already.”
This isn’t something I’d thought would be in a real relationship, nothing I’d ever considered—not until I fell into bed with Liam for the first time. “Yes,” I whine. My eyes roll back in my head as he toys with my ass, bringing new, heightened sensations through my sex and straight to my core.
“Then you hold tight, baby. I have something that might help me fit inside that perfect little hole.”
He takes his cock out of my pussy and starts stroking himself, moaning as he moves to the other side of the bed. I arch my back to turn around and look at him, but he smiles and tries to hide whatever it is that he has. “Not yet, princess. This is going to be a surprise. Turn back around, and let me see that perfect little ass. It’s mine now, and you’re going to love it.”
I blush deep red when he says it, but I follow his command and curl up on the bed, feeling small and helpless—and empty. My pussy throbs—needy, waiting for him.
“I think you’re going to like this.” I hear him open a bottle of lube. “Hell, I think you’re going to need it. My cock might stretch you a little too far without it.”
“Oh God—maybe we shouldn’t—” I babble, suddenly nervous.
“There’s no going back now. You’re mine, remember? You agreed.” He moves closer to me in the bed, and I feel the pressure of something smooth and soft at the tip of my asshole. It’s not his cock—I know that feeling well by now.
“What is that?” I try to turn and look, but he holds my body steady with his strong hands.
“Just relax. Close your eyes.” The heat and pleasure mix with fear, pulsing through my body together.
“I just—I’ve never—had anything there before.” He pushes the tip of whatever the thing is deeper inside of me, and I hear him growl with excitement. His hard cock presses into the back of my thigh, and I whimper.
“It’s just a little toy,” he says, twirling it. The thing invades the entrance of my ass, stretching me out just a little. I moan at the sensation. “But it will help stretch you out, won’t it?”
He pushes it in further, and I moan. “Yes, it will.” My voice comes out in a whisper.
“What do you want, baby?”
“I want you to fuck me.” I look over my shoulder, meeting his eye. I whimper. He slides the toy in further, and I feel myself opening to him. This wasn’t a part of who I was—but wanting this, here with Liam, this is me now.
“How do you want me to fuck you?”
“Fuck my ass,” I moan. “And make it yours.”