Page 27 of Look My Way (Bloody Desires #1)

Twenty-Two

Liam

My body is sore in the best ways when I wake up.

I stretch out my arms in my empty bed, smiling wide as I wiggle my ass over the cool sheets.

Daniel’s side is empty, and those words stab at my insides as I think them.

It’s not his side because it’s my bed. It’s my house.

I look over at the rumpled sheet and folded pillow, imagining that someone else emerged from there this morning while I was sleeping.

Someone who was in my dreams, making my body soar so far into the clouds I still feel like my feet aren’t touching the ground when I slide off the bed.

The only evidence left behind is a slight ache in my ass and the tingling sensation in my toes I get every time I have a good orgasm.

Daniel was sleeping soundly next to me as I came in someone else’s mouth.

If I told him, he’d say it wasn’t real anyway, and to him his word is truth, so it would mean nothing happened last night.

I didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did the man who snuck into my room and fucked me with his tongue.

It was so warm, and the feeling was odd at first. But my insecurities slipped away as quickly as they came, as warmth traveled up my body, exploding and turning into hot scorching flames.

I’d felt him everywhere and fell back asleep with his words in my head.

I only understood the word “strong,” and that was enough for me.

It was like it didn’t happen, but it also did, and I can’t wait to repeat it tonight after I highlight another sentence in my book.

I shouldn’t do it again so soon, but my body doesn’t want to go another night without it.

Did Daniel hear how strong someone else thought I was?

Would he believe them? I should have him say the words louder, and maybe then Daniel would believe it.

Maybe he’d believe me, and then maybe I could trust myself over him again.

I almost think I do, but then his words come pouring in, sharp like knives. “You keep thinking these things happened when they didn’t. It’s every time you don’t get enough rest.”

I let out a breath and walk to the bathroom.

The hard spray of water hits the tub when I start the shower, and I look in the mirror, stepping closer when I notice a mark on my stomach.

My fingers press to it and my heart kicks in my chest. It looks like a bruise, and they do sometimes happen with my medications, but that’s not what this is from, is it?

Dark eyes appear in my mind, and a flash of a masked man staring up at me while licking me clean pushes its way into my thoughts like a good memory most people would want to hold onto forever— if it had actually happened.

So I keep it close to me as I step into the shower, replaying it as I touch myself and fuck my hand until I’m coming on the tile wall.

It’s there still when I slip my robe on and enter the kitchen to make some toast. It’s with me when I fix myself a cup of tea and fry an egg in a pan.

I only let it slip away when I look out the window, undoing the front of my robe when I see someone’s leg sticking out from behind the shed.

Taking myself in my hand, I gasp when a gloved hand appears as well.

Sliding my palm up and down faster, I pump my hips forward.

My breaths quicken as fluttery sensations crawl up my legs, making me feel less balanced on my feet.

Lifting a knee, I press it to the counter, resting my body on it as I use my other fingers to play with my nipple.

Part of a mask pokes out, and eyes blink, the color hard to make out from here.

I don’t have to see it to know who it is, because I’ve written in my book how one MC tells the other to surprise him, to not let him know ahead of time that he’s coming.

He’s been willingly playing this game with me all this time without me realizing what he was doing.

Did he always know? Did he orchestrate this somehow, tricking me into believing I initiated it first?

Maybe he doesn’t know when and where it began either.

Maybe, like me, he’s accidentally landed himself on a ride he doesn’t know how to get off of.

It started that way for me, and now I wouldn’t want to get off even if I could.

It’s fast-paced, unpredictable, and addicting.

I’ve never felt freer and like everything I’m doing is for me as much as for the other person.

And if I walk away, it will end. If I put up the new curtains or even admit to finding the ones in the shed, this will all go away.

My head falls back, and I don’t need to look outside to know I’m being watched. I don’t know where Daniel is; he could be anywhere. I haven’t checked the time, so he could still be here since he goes in later today, or he could be walking in the door for lunch.

Zavier didn’t say what time he’d be here today, only that he had a busy day so it would probably be after one.

After one when he’d start working, that is.

Any other plans we have between us aren’t usually made verbally.

I open my eyes, my skin feeling like it’s covered with static as I slam my hips forward, shaking through my orgasm.

I wheeze, struggling to catch my breath, and my vision goes black before it’s being lit up again.

When everything stops spinning around me, I look outside and he’s gone. Or I just don’t see him.

Leaning over the counter, I rest on my hands and don’t move until I feel steady enough.

My ears feel like they’ve been submerged under water, everything echoing around me.

Smiling, I revel in how light and wonderful I feel on my short walk to my room.

I drop my robe to the floor, kicking it away, and drop back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I lie here for a while, stretching out my body and pushing myself against the bed.

My whole body is still tingling and feeling boneless.

My head moves from side to side, and my eyes close, opening again when the doorbell rings.

I jump, sitting up in bed and almost falling flat on my face from standing too quickly.

There’s a rush shooting through me, my head all fuzzy, and I rub my temple.

The doorbell goes off again and I let out a sigh, grabbing the first set of clothes I come across in my drawer.

I throw on a pair of gray shorts and white shirt before rushing toward the howling sound of the bell.

I pull open the door and Zavier’s smile almost has me tumbling forward all over again.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” I lean against the door frame, opening the door wider. “Not at all. Come on in.”

“I did say after one, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” I run a hand through my hair, looking back at the clock on the wall behind me.

My eyebrows jump. Holy fuck. Is it really one forty-five already?

Where the hell did the time go? Finishing a book does take a lot out of me, and I spend many days similar to this one after hitting the end—minus all the orgasms of course.

He squeezes past, looking me up and down. I swear I hear a low growl, and goosebumps cover all my exposed skin.

“How are you this morning? I’m almost to the epilogue in your book. Had an exhausting day yesterday so I didn’t get quite reach it yet.”

“I’m good, and that’s okay. Gives me some time to tweak it if I have to. They call them first drafts for a reason.” I tilt my head back and smile, shoving the door shut, then I follow him to the back yard, stopping when my feet touch the hot concrete.

I yelp, jumping back, and he quickly turns around, his forehead lifting. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I laugh, stepping back again. “Forgot my shoes.”

His gaze drops to my bare feet. “Someone was a little too eager to come outside. Cute toes by the way.” His head nods at my green toenails.

“Thanks.” I turn my feet inward shyly, curling my toes, and he chuckles.

“You’re welcome, carino. You go put those shoes on and I’ll be out here getting started. I won’t be here too long today, so that means longer tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Busy schedule?” I tilt my head, opening the door behind me.

“Yeah. Something came up that I had to take care of. Was much too important to put off.” His stare darkens and my tongue suddenly feels too big for my mouth.

He clears his throat. “Carino?” he says with amusement in his tone.

“Yeah?”

“Shoes, mi pequeno.”

“Oh. Yes. I’ll be back.” I duck my head, slipping inside and softly shutting the door behind me.

I smile when his laughter cuts through the door.

He sets down his bag, taking out his tools, and I go to the front of the house to slip on my slides, not wanting to cover my toes in case he wants to take another look.

My cheeks heat at the thought as I fix us some lemonade, carrying two glasses outside when I’m done. He quickly takes a cup from me as soon as he sees me juggling the two while trying to shut the door.

“Let me help.” His fingers brush mine as he takes his drink, and he picks up the wedged lemon, licking at it. My eyes eagerly follow his suave movements. “Thank you, carino. Looks delicious. Perfect for this warm day too.”

“Yeah. I figured it would be.”

“You getting work done today too?”

I shake my head, carrying my cup to the nearby table. “No. I’m taking the day off so I can jump into the document in two days with fresh eyes. My editor will probably gripe about it but he’s well aware of my process.”

“Your editor give you a hard time a lot?”

“Yeah.” I huff out a breath, lowering myself into one of the chairs. “So I’m really hoping he’s not at the work dinner tonight.”

“Work dinner? Like with other writers and stuff?”

“Yeah. All the ones whho are local under the same publisher.”

“That sounds like fun. If he’s there, maybe you can just ignore him and still have a good time.”