Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) (13 page)

I nodded at him, silently. He leaned down and put his face against mine, and stroked my dirty hair like it was the most precious silk. “I’m so glad that you’re here,” he said, and kissed my cheek once, gently. Then he released me, and I watched his powerful backside as he strode down the hall.

I was thinking about this as I stood under the steaming hot water of the shower, finally washing my hair. Whatever the shampoo was, its smell was so delicious it was making my mouth water. Or maybe I was salivating because I was thinking about the view of John’s behind ... or maybe I was just starving.

My stomach rumbled at the thought and I started washing my hair again.
Liberty, you need to keep your eye on the ball,
the voice in my head said. I sighed. She was right. I was not thinking with my head — and the body part I
was
thinking with wasn’t asking the right questions, or really, any questions at all. Except for:
When?

As I cleared my head, I began to realize that I did have a lot of questions. To start with
: Who had hired John to take me?
Who did I know that had any resources at all, any connections? There was no one...but how did John know so much about me? I had checked the sizes on the clothes as I put them away, and all of them would fit me perfectly.
How
did
he
know?
And who had told him who my favorite books were, and that I never tired of rereading them?
What was the “training” we were going to do here? What the hell did that really mean?

I shivered again.
I wondered if he had spied on me…absurdly, the thought sent luscious waves down my spine. If I was thinking straight, I would be afraid. Instead, I felt perfectly safe.

Enough,
commanded the voice in my head.
If you can’t be reasonable, think about this, instead: who is the asset John’s after?
I still didn’t know, and I didn’t know how I was supposed to help. If we did catch someone, would he become a prisoner like Darius? What on earth would happen then?

The other thing that was nagging me was my life back in Las Vegas, my job, my apartment. John had said that Cruz had agreed to me taking a leave of absence, but for how long? How long was this going to take? John had said that he would take care of my financial issues, my rent. For once, I trusted someone to follow through. Not only did he clearly have the means to pay my rent, but he was meticulous and alert. In my gut, I knew he wouldn’t let my financial well-being slip through the cracks. I knew he would take care of me.

I’d never had that before, and it frightened me. So instead of being appropriately
scared of John spying on me, or kidnapping someone, I was petrified of trusting, having
faith, depending on him.

This is what brought me to my most nagging question, the real ball in play here, the one I needed to keep my eye on. I shaved my legs while I contemplated it, happy for the privacy, for the hot shower, for the chance to think clearly.
I wanted John.
I couldn’t lie to myself: it was automatic, it was innate; it was completely out of my control. He was out of my league and I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself.
And at some point, he was gonna get tired of me, find someone prettier than me and younger than me, like Tracey said.

But
I missed him right now. It didn’t make any sense, but I needed to be near him.

So the question was:
What was going to happen?
If we were on an assignment, what happened when the assignment was fulfilled? I couldn’t imagine myself going back to the Treasure Chest and my infested apartment, checking for bed bugs every night, alone again. Because now I would have another hole in my heart, even bigger than the first; I wasn’t sure I could take it.

Just don’t think about it,
I told myself.
It’s been two days.
I took a deep breath and turned off the shower. And I hoped whoever had hired John had told him that I needed a blow-dryer with a diffuser for my hair.

I was in bed, in the gorgeous blush-pink tank top and pajama bottoms that someone had bought for me, when John came back. The small digital clock on my nightstand said it was just six o’clock, but it felt like midnight to me.

“Hi,” John said, and sat down gently on my bed.

“Hi,” I said, nervously. My stomach fluttered at his proximity. “How was your meeting?”

“Productive,” he said. “How was your shower?”

“Excellent,” I said. “I have the best smelling hair in the whole world.”

He leaned down and inhaled. “Yes, yes you do.” He smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re comfortable, but you need to eat. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to go up to the big house tonight and see everyone at dinner,” I said, and it was true.
And I didn’t have the nerve or energy to meet his father tonight — it’d been a long day.
My talk with myself had made me weary. I knew where I stood now, and I knew I could face it all tomorrow, in the gentle light of morning, but tonight it was just too much.

“I figured as much,” John said, kindly. “I took the
liberty
,” John said, pausing for comedic effect, “of having your dinner sent down here.” He went to the door, opened it, and wheeled in a cart. On it was a chicken caesar salad, a steaming bowl of macaroni and cheese, a dark chocolate brownie, a bottle of water and a large glass of white wine.
I love you
, I thought.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Can I come back later?” John asked me, huskily.

My heart started to race. “Of course,” I said, and beamed at him.

“Lock the door,” he commanded, kissing me quickly and leaving my side. “I’ll knock, but check before you let me in.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling.

“It’s so much more fun when it’s
you
saying that,” he said. “Now, lock the door.”

I did as I was told. It was becoming a bit of a habit for me, and I worried about its side effects. It wasn’t like me to trust someone like I intuitively trusted John.
Careful,
said the voice in my head.
Not only are you just a pretty face, John has some serious baggage.
She was right, but for just now, I was going with it. I didn’t see much of an alternative.

I shook these thoughts off and concentrated on my dinner, happy to be alone so I could eat without feeling self-conscious. Then I spent a long time flossing and brushing my teeth. I used mouthwash. Twice. Then I crawled into bed and without another thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The next thing I knew there was a knock on the door. I checked my clock — now it really was midnight. My heart was beating hard as I got up and looked through the peephole. John was out there, smiling at me. “Knock knock,” he said, quietly. I let him in, my heart thudding in my chest.

I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until I saw him again.

He closed the door firmly behind him and locked it. I went to him, then, and he crushed me to him and kissed me. Hard. I felt his tongue run deliciously into my mouth. It made me throb. I ran my hands over his chest; I could feel his powerful muscles underneath. I couldn’t wait anymore. I unbuttoned his shirt and finally, finally, felt his smooth skin, pulled tight over his taut muscles. His chest was rock hard. I ran my hands down his arms; he had huge biceps, larger than I would have expected to be hidden underneath his suit. Clearly, the man worked out.

He was still kissing me, his tongue in my mouth. Then he pulled away and kissed my face, my ear, my neck. I was breathing so hard I thought I might pass out. He picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he laid me down. He kept kissing my neck and the top of my chest; I moaned and writhed beneath him, trying to get him to lay down on me, put his full weight on me. He sat up for a second and I jumped up, too, petrified that he might be stopping. Instead, he just kissed me again, hard, and started undoing his belt.
I think I might die.
I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my temples.

He stood and took off his pants — in the darkness of the room I could see that he had on boxer briefs, and underneath them loomed an enormous erection.
Enormous.
I stopped breathing then. My insides trembled. Having never done this before, I really wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with
that
, or where it was supposed to go.

He laid down on me then, underwear still on, and I got the picture pretty clearly.
Oh my god.
The pressure of him against me down there felt so, so good. He didn’t say a word. He kept kissing me, hotly, intently, and wriggled me out of my tank top. Then as he was still laying on me, the hard part of him pressed right in between my legs, he started licking and sucking on my nipples. I cried out and arched my back, trying desperately to draw him into me through my pajama bottoms. I was a virgin, and this was the most I’d ever done, but I knew what I wanted. I felt like an animal — my biology had completely taken over. Thank goodness. If I had been in charge, I would have totally screwed it up.

“John,” I whispered, thickly. My need was so intense that I felt like I was on the verge of tears.
“Please.”

“Come here, baby,” he said, softly, commandingly, and took off my pajama bottoms
.
He kissed me then, hard, running his hands down my naked body. Electric sparks shot through me at his touch. I tried to climb onto his lap, to press him against me, but he held me down, kissing my neck, my breasts, my lips. My breathing was ragged, but he seemed in control. He licked and sucked on my nipples, going back and forth between them, as I moaned softly and arched my back.
John. Please.

He pulled back for a moment and looked at me. Then he put his hand firmly in between my legs, feeling the wetness there. All traces of self-consciousness gone, I arched my back and writhed against his palm; it felt so good, I just wanted him to touch me, to put himself inside me. Instead, he started lazily, luxuriously rubbing and pinching a spot in between my legs with his thumb and his forefinger. He kissed me harder and I moved rhythmically against his hand, wanting, needing. Then he got a wicked gleam in his eye, kissed me briefly on the lips and put his head down in between my legs. He kissed the spot he’d been rubbing, at first gently, and then harder, his mouth clamping down on that part of me that I’d never felt before. I threw my head back and cried out, helplessly. I bucked against him then, wild with need, and started screaming. He put his teeth on me, and the sharp contrast of feelings made me draw in my breath. Then he put his mouth over me and sucked again, harder, and I was wracked with spasms. My body was totally out of my control. I came, and a torrent of release washed through me, making me cry out his name over and over again.
John, John, oh, John.

It took me several dazed minutes to come back to reality, to be self conscious — and to wonder what was next. By then, he was asleep. I smoothed down his tousled hair and he moaned happily in his sleep. I laid down to join him and he threw his arm over me, pulling me to him, his warm, strong arms holding me protectively, making me feel safe. I gently kissed him on the cheek and started drifting off to sleep, somewhat less and somewhat more than the total virgin I’d been earlier that day.