Page 21

T hanksgiving without my family was difficult.

I was used to robust gatherings, filled to the brim with people I was raised with. People who I knew loved me, who I loved in return.

But after the blowup with Dad, I couldn’t bring myself to attend. It felt awful, and strange, but I had to stand firm on this.

That my own father could believe me so weak as to be tricked by a man, I mean, that just stung.

Mom called and cried on the phone, but in the end, she understood my position.

“I just wish you and Dad would make up. He’s so hurt, Micky,” she said.

“I’m hurt too, Mom. He thinks I’m an idiot. Just some dumb kid Liam tricked into marrying him.”

“Can’t you just come for dinner?”

“Sorry, we have plans,” I lied.

“Well, you’re coming to Christmas Michaela, if I have to drag you here.”

“Okay, Mom,” I snorted a laugh, trying to hide the fact I was crying.

I hated that some of what she said was actually true.

But Liam hadn’t tricked me. I went into this thing with my eyes open. No, we were not a love match. He didn’t feel that way about me.

But he seemed different lately. He was attentive and sweet. The last few days, we stayed home, going over our partnership deal and making plans.

He had new offices over in Jersey, and staff still coming in from all over. Boston, Manhattan, some from his old college, and even China.

We went over a lot of paperwork, the model for his nano battery and how I could help by managing the computer engineering team for other applications.

I had ideas for who I wanted for certain positions, people I graduated with. Liam asked questions, but he was supportive, encouraging me to send out inquiries.

Headhunting for my own team was something I’d always wanted, but never had the authority to do working under my father and uncles.

And after work, well, he seemed to like spending time with me. We ate together, talked, and then there was always the after .

The kissing and touching part. All the glorious things he did to me in bed, and elsewhere.

Liam fucked like it was his job. I hated to think where he got all his practice, but that was unfair. He had a life before his sister coerced him into marrying me.

He didn’t seem to mind, but that didn’t change how we got together.

That his desire seemed real enough helped. But I needed to keep my eyes open. I couldn’t allow myself to believe, to pretend that he was here because he cared.

I was a body. Handy. Capable. And a brain to bounce ideas off. But Liam didn’t pick me. And I had to remember that.

I bit my bottom lip as I placed the turkey pot pie I’d made with our leftovers in the oven.

It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving and tomorrow was going to be my first day going into the office, but Liam got called in to oversee the arrival of some prototypes from China.

He promised to be back by six and it was five now. Just enough time for him to come home to a warm home cooked meal.

We’d actually cooked our own turkey for Thanksgiving with all the trimmings, and it turned out good.

Really good.

Sure, I missed everyone, but Liam made a very decent sous chef. Everything was delicious. Except for the apple pie which we burned, having been distracted by some naughty shenanigans that took place since my handsome husband couldn’t seem to stop untying my apron.

That, of course, led to him unfastening other parts of my outfit, and some naked fun time ensued soon after.

My sex clenched just picturing it. I had to admit, having the attentions of a man who looked like him was quite flattering.

I mean, I had good self-esteem. Yes, I was a big girl, some would say fat, but I ignored the haters.

I was healthy. I exercised regularly. I just liked food.

Sure, I was pretty enough, and I’d learned to dress well for my fuller figure at an early age. Money helped. Being raised by a slew of women with similar body types and excellent esteem also helped. I was lucky in that aspect. In a lot of ways, actually.

I even had a couple of boyfriends. But my life had always been so family oriented, I didn’t have time for much else. Truth was, it was hard to compete with the Volkov clan.

My best friend called us a force to be reckoned with. Shelly had a pretty shitty home life, raised by an aunt who was uninterested in being a mother to her only niece. We sort of adopted her into our own insanely loud, loving mess.

Thinking about Shelly just reminded me how much I missed her and my family. But I needed time and space for myself. The thing about big families was they could swallow you up.

I’d been fighting way too long to be independent to just allow that. It’s not that they meant to do it. I knew that, but I had to stand on my own feet.

Ironic that marrying a stranger was the thing to give me that boost I needed.

Okay, not a stranger exactly. Technically, I had known Liam for years. I’d dreamed about him, too.

About kissing him and touching him.

The reality was just so much better. No, I wasn’t a virgin when I met Liam, but I wasn’t a sex siren, either. But when I was with him, I sure as hell felt like one.

He was definitely good for my ego. The way he stared at me when we were all alone made me feel like I was special.

Pure lust.

That was the look. Like he wanted to consume me. Seeing him look at me that way made me so hot.

Never had I felt so wanton.

But the thing that had me gnawing my bottom lip was the fact we were about to leave this little bubble we’d created. This safe place where we could explore this mutual attraction without eyes on us was about to break wide open.

Just one more sleep, and the whole world would know we were married. On Monday, I would start working with him at O’Doyle Industries and the press release we’d drawn up would go out.

It was better to get ahead of the vultures that were the paparazzi. Tabloids loved juicy little headlines, and like it or not, I was the heiress to a fortune with a very powerful father.

People were going to talk.

But maybe not so much if we got there first. So, along with the press release, Liam and I were going to hold a conference in the lobby of the ODI building in downtown Jersey City, ODI being short for O’Doyle Industries.

Some would argue that I was a fool for agreeing to this, but this was a chance to do something I’d wanted for so long. To break out from the weight of my family’s influence and build something myself.

Not on my own, as I’d often fantasized, but with my husband. And for some reason, that seemed even better.

Partners.

That was what he’d promised. It was right there in black and white on the contract I’d signed and had a copy of tucked away in my new safe inside our walk in closet.

We now had his and hers safes.

Crazy?

Not when you grew up like I did.

The second the family knew about my marriage, the calls had started. I’d heard everything from rumors he was using me for money, fame, industry secrets, and so on.

It was ludicrous. And hilarious.

At least Lucy had the gumption to ask if he was using me for sex, to which I’d replied thank you since no one else even suggested it.

Buttheads.

But Liam never asked about my own personal money or anything like that, really. He either didn’t know or care about my trust fund, or the fact I’d saved quite a lot over the years.

My parents were exceedingly wealthy. I wasn’t ashamed of it. And I wasn’t bragging. It simply was.

As for my husband, well, I looked up O’Doyle Industries. Or rather, Uncle Josef did. He sent over everything he could find about the finances and goings ons, and Liam was really doing quite well for himself.

I had no doubts he’d be a billionaire by the end of the next fiscal year. Same went for me if he honored our contract. The business one. Not the marital one.

Though I was starting to think he had every intention of honoring that one as well.

Hope swelled within me, and I closed my eyes, offering one small, brief prayer to the universe to please let this stick.

Divorce was a dirty word in my household growing up, and I hated to think I might be the first one of us to have her marriage end in such a way.

The thing about it was, I cared for him. For Liam.

What I felt for my husband went beyond the schoolgirl crush I’d had back when I was seventeen. I pressed my hand over my heart, sucking in a calming breath, and releasing it into the air, willing all my anxieties to go with it.

The sounds of the keypad lock had me turning my head just in time to see him walk in.

Fuck.

He always looked so good. His thick hair was combed back, and that sexy beard of his that was a little more than a shadow, but not by much was trimmed and sexy as hell.

His emerald gaze glittered, locking onto mine like a homing pigeon as he strode straight towards me.

“Come here, Wife,” he growled, cupping my cheeks and pulling my face so he could reach me.

I lifted towards him with eager lips.

“Mmm,” I moaned into his kiss, silently cursing for not changing my clothes earlier.

I was wearing a pair of thin cotton lounge pants and an ivory tank top. No bra. No makeup. I just threw my hair in a ponytail before I went to work on the pot pie.

Thank goodness I had already taken my soiled apron off.

Liam didn’t seem to mind my casual attire. In fact, from the way he couldn’t stop touching me, kneading my flesh with his large, warm hands, I thought maybe he liked it.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he moaned.

He cupped my ass, squeezing my cheeks as he pressed me to the hardness beneath his zipper. I felt his cock pulse and moisture pooled between my thighs.

“Dinner’s in the oven,” I murmured.

“It can wait. This can’t.”

Then he bent down, picked me up over his shoulder and carried me to our bedroom.

By the time he dropped me on the bed, I was panting.

“Clothes. Off,” he growled, kneeling at the foot of the bed and taking off his suit jacket.

He hadn’t worn a tie, and his eyes were glued to my body as I pushed my pants down to my ankles. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough because he helped, grabbing them and yanking them off the rest of the way.

“Your top. Off,” he growled, going back to his buttons.

He had his belt off by the time I pulled the tank top over my head, and that was as far as he got before falling on top of me.

Liam’s kisses were always so hot, so needy. Like he was desperate to taste me. I never had that. Never had a man act like he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t get inside of me.

I fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I hated leaving this morning before I could do this,” he grunted, reaching between us with one hand while the other stayed around my throat.

The thick head of his cock grazed over my clit, and I moaned. He kept rubbing it around, making me mad with lust before moving lower, deeper to my slick entrance.

The air was thick with desire, and I keened at the sensations he brought me. The man was a magician, conjuring pleasure with the slightest touch. Making me feel desired, sultry, more like a woman than I ever had before.

“You’re so fucking hot for it, aren’t you, Sweetheart?”

Holy. Shit.

That accent of his drove me wild. I loved his filthy words. Loved this sexy game he was playing.

But I was too far gone. Hungry for more. No, I didn’t want teasing. I wanted him.

“Husband, please,” I moaned.

“Move up the bed,” he told me, and I nodded, trying my best to wiggle further up with him still on top of me.

Liam rolled to his back his hand cupping the thick bulge beneath his zipper.

“Come here, Wife. Unzip my pants.”

I moved to obey his command. Straddling his knees, I reached for his zipper. My fingers fumbled as I slid it down and I groaned at how hard he felt beneath my fingers.

“Take my dick out. Good girl,” he praised me, and I whimpered again.

“Now get on top of me.”