as those words were given. He was right. Each action in this world is done for a reason. His actions that morning were harsh, cruel and barbaric, but they were needed. They weren’t some sadistic ploy to cause distress. They wouldn’t have been needed, had I not have overstepped the line and interfered with his business. It didn’t occur to me at that time that it was a two way street, and that my actions of overstepping the mark, also had an underlining reason, which he obviously could see or just wouldn’t regard.
No longer feeling inferior, the air between us became thinner and clearer. “You’re right,” I nodded, and as my musings was given a voice, his hand tightened with a degree of affection on my thigh. I repaid him with setting my own understanding hand over his and locked our fingers together.
Dilapidated buildings passed by at speed as I p eeked out of the window. “No matter what it is, she’ll tell me eventually. She always does.”
“ What on Earth are you doing?” I giggled after big, strong, powder-blue shirt-sleeves whipped me off my feet as we stood in the small hallway of our apartment building. Yet, my question was left unanswered as Liam focused on carrying me up each flight of stairs like he was carrying a gym bag in his arms instead of a fully grown woman. I would have objected, kicked my legs and swat him away until he set me back on my feet. ‘God gave me legs for a reason’, as my Nan would say. Despite that, my arms came up to lock at the nape of his neck; the tips of his locks tickled at the edges of my fingers, while the pulse in the left of his neck caused the spider’s web to throb. Held against the hardness of his chest, I breathed him in and allowed myself to be carried.
Somehow , he successfully managed to dig into his black pants pocket for the apartment key and slip it into the lock without releasing, or accidentally dropping me. I was quite impressed.
Kicking the door open, he took us over the threshold and again, kicked the door shut once we were inside. The solidity of the ground beneath my feet was greatly missed. I squealed for him to please put me down. Then again, Liam DeLaney, being Liam DeLaney, didn’t take nicely to orders or requests. He did as he wanted, and if you were on the receiving end of what he wanted, there was no room for opposition.
The apartment was filled with the so unds of my lighthearted chortle. Burnish orange coated the walls as the sun was beginning to meet the horizon. It must have been about 4:30 p.m. and the nights’ rolling in earlier and earlier was a factor I held a great hate towards.
Into the bedroom we went. A shriek tore from my throat as I was tossed on to the black and red satin adorned bed. Feeling like I had just walked through some web, my hands immediately flew up to hastily brush the sensation left behind as wayward tendrils tickled my face. Before I could even attempt to push myself up, I was pinned back down by a heavy body, his head hovering above mine.
“Good evening, Miss Jenson,” he pu rred. Just the simple use of him calling me, ‘Miss Jenson’ had me squirming, not to mention the husky intonation which the two words traveled along. My legs fell open farther, allowing him to be cradled against me. Circling and grinding hips caressed my core, sending my eyes fluttering as I savored the sensation of his hinting motives.
“Good evening to you, Mr. DeLaney,” I breathed back, all the while my hips were propelling upward to meet the tantalizing use of his gyrating hips.
He pulled away and slithered down my body where his fingers proceeded to sink beneath the waistband of my Capri’s. When the button was popped, he continued to lower the zipper and peel them, along with my underwear, down my legs, slipping my heeled pumps off just before divesting the material from my flesh.
“ What are you doing?” I asked as the hard body and hungry eyes glided back up my half-naked form. My arms were grasped insistently