Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) (14 page)

I woke up the next morning with the sun streaming through the window and a big, stupid smile on my face.
Mmmmm
, I thought, relishing the relaxed feeling in my limbs.
Mmmm, mmmm, mmm….

I rolled over and there was John, watching me, with his gorgeously lined face and tousled thick brown hair.

I hope he didn’t hear me
mmmm-ing.
“Um, hi,” I squeaked, tentatively.

“Hello,” John said, an arched an eyebrow at me. I pulled the sheet over my face.

He laughed. “You don’t need to hide from me,” John said, trying to peer underneath the sheet. He lifted it up a little and looked at my naked body. “I’ve seen all of
that
,” he said, “and I liked it!”

I felt myself turn crimson and tried to stay hidden, tried not to laugh out loud.

Finally, I peeked out. “I need to brush my teeth,” I said, feebly. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss him, to rub up against him like a cat in heat, but I just couldn’t do it with morning breath. Plus, I desperately had to pee.

“Go ahead,” John said, and clasped his hands behind his head and laid back on the pillow. He looked at me gleefully.

This was when I realized what he obviously already knew: that I was totally naked, my pajamas were thrown in a ball somewhere unreachable, and it was broad daylight. I was going to have to walk to the bathroom
au natural
, and he was going to enjoy it.

I bit my lip and looked at him. After what we’d done last night, I really shouldn’t be self-conscious. But I was, and I was painfully aware of his beauty. Seeing him in the morning light only highlighted his perfection. That thick brown hair, flecked with blonde and grey, his beautiful, tanned face, and then oh my goodness, that rock hard body … I felt myself start to squirm uncomfortably with desire.
Stop, Liberty. Get a grip.
I mentally shook my head, trying to clear out the gauzy haze of lust.

I sighed, resigned. Having to pee was going to win out over my self-consciousness; more importantly, I felt the urgent need to kiss him again and I really wanted to brush my teeth first. I just had to get up, naked, and walk to the bathroom. With Mr. Perfect watching me. It’s not like I hadn’t been naked in front of tons of people before — occupational hazard. I just didn’t care about any of them the way I cared about John.
You’re young,
the voice in my head reasoned.
You’ve at least got that going for you.

I turned bright red, bolted up out of bed, and ran for it.

When I came back, moving just as quickly, John was in the same position on the bed, laughing.
Laughing at me naked.
I felt my face turn purple as I got back in, pulling the sheet and comforter around me. I wished I could disappear.

“Liberty,” he said, shaking his head. “What are you so worried about?” He looked at me, still chuckling, and then realized that I had turned violet and was about to cry. “Oh, honey,” he said, sitting up and trying to pull me to him. “Liberty, I’m just teasing you.” He stroked my hair as I sat there, stiffly.
He was laughing at me and I was naked.
My thoughts started to veer out of control, wondering how many other women he had been with and how perfect they all were.
I knew this was all a bad idea.

“Sweetheart,” he said, and gently kissed my face. “You’re so beautiful ... you’re flawless ... I thought you knew.”

He kept gently kissing the side of my face, rocking me, and I felt a stupid wave of desire roll through my belly.
Not now,
I thought. I needed this straightened out first. “You don’t have to be self-conscious around me, ever. I’m so sorry to have teased you,” John said, earnestly.

“I bet I’m the only stripper you know who blushes,” I mumbled, embarrassed for being so embarrassed, wishing the bed could swallow me up.
At least he said I was beautiful.

“You are the
only
stripper I know,” he said gently. “And yes, I know you blush. I have noticed it, and I find it quite endearing.” He leaned down and kissed me then, tenderly, and I could feel his hardness start stirring against me. I felt tears sneak out and streak down my face as I kissed him back, hard, needfully. I couldn’t handle how much he affected me, how much I wanted to please him. It was like my whole life depended on it.
This was getting out of control.

He pulled back from me and wiped my tears away. “I promise to treat you more gently,” he said. “I forget, because you’re so beautiful and young, that you have insecurities. You shouldn’t — but just because I can see how perfect you are doesn’t mean you can see it.” He smiled at me. “You are perfect, though. You should know.”

I smiled at him, then, my real smile. He knew exactly what was going on with me. It was staggering. A lifetime of loneliness, of only having myself to talk to in my head, and here he was, understanding everything perfectly. The need to cry dried up; my purpleness started to recede to a regular flushed color.

I love you,
I thought.
It’s only been a little while, but I so totally love you.

That realization, on its own, was totally frightening. I tried to push the fact that there were some extenuating circumstances that made
it all the more petrifying to the side.

I climbed on top of him then and kissed him hotly. My inner stripper was using her pelvis against him, and he threw back his head and groaned.
Take me
, I thought, I willed, but he hadn’t done it last night.

So here we were again.

Some sense of propriety was holding him back. Did he know I was a virgin, or just sense it? I wanted him so badly I couldn’t stand it.
Please, put it in me,
I thought, begging him inwardly, as I writhed against him. I didn’t care that it was so big that it was sort of scary. I was willing to take the risk.

I leaned my head down against his. “Please,”
I whispered in his ear. “I need you. Please.”

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes burning. I hoped he would give in. He moaned slightly and then he reached down and took off his briefs, and I could finally see it, tall and erect and imposing. I straddled him, not thinking, and held him in between my legs, stroking him with the wetness that had suddenly appeared there.

“Oh my god,” John said, his eyes rolling back into his head. He moaned again, louder.

I was starting to get a rhythm, rubbing him back and forth against me, getting ready. I threw back my head in pleasure. This was it.
Finally.

Then my alarm clock went off. John sat bolt upright, comically, his hair sticking out from me lustfully running my hands through it, a dazed look in his eyes. He turned the alarm off and slammed the clock down. “Liberty,” he said, gently. I ignored him and kept rocking back and forth, willing him to be quiet, to submit.

“
Liberty.
We have to stop. It’s training day,” he said, and lifted me off of him.

“Nooo,”
I whined, and tried to climb back on him.
We were so close...

He pushed me off of him again, gently. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” he growled at me. Then, as if to reassure me, he grabbed the back of my hair and kissed me, hard, searchingly. It made my insides ache. He pulled away and sighed heavily.

“Let’s pick this up later.”

I nodded mutely and then sat there and pouted while he put his clothes back on. At least I got to watch. “I have to go shower and get changed before breakfast.” He tapped a bag on top of my dresser. “These are for you,” he said. “You’ll need to wear them today.” He leaned down and kissed me again, tenderly, and I wound my arms around his neck. He pressed his forehead to mine and held me like that for a minute. Instead of lustful heat I now felt warmth emanating from him, surrounding me.

I gently kissed the side of his face. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Twenty minutes,” he said, getting up. “Be ready.”

I sat there for a second after he left and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. Other thoughts, troubling one, tried to creep in, but I kept them at a distance.
Then, looking at the clock, I quickly jumped up and grabbed the bag from the dresser. I couldn’t be late.

Inside the bag were more fresh, clean clothes waiting for me. I started to scowl as I inspected them further: sports bra, running shorts, tank top, running shoes.
Heh?
I’d never worn a sports bra in my life.

This couldn’t be good.

Obediently, though, I took a quick shower, pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and got dressed. I could barely breathe in the sports bra; it was like a scuba suit. I was glad that there wasn’t a full-length mirror in my room. I was positive that I looked idiotic in these pink running shorts. I pictured John smirking as he’d picked them out for me — they were absurdly short.

There was a knock at the door. I automatically went and opened it; I was surprised to see Matthew there, with a tank top and mesh shorts on.

“Oh, hi,” I said. “I was expecting John.”

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” Matthew said, smiling at me. “You didn’t look through the peephole before you answered the door. Let’s go back and do that again.” He shooed me back into the room and closed the door. He knocked again.

“Who is it?” I asked, glad that he couldn’t see me rolling my eyes. This was ridiculous.

“It’s Matthew,” he called back, and I could hear him smiling.

I looked through the peephole. “Okay, I can tell it’s you. For real,” I said, and stepped through the door.

He looked at me and laughed. “
I
do what I’m told,” he said, and gestured for me to follow him down the hallway.

“I’m trying,” I mumbled under my breath. Then, at an audible level, I asked the question I was dreading the answer to: “What exactly
is
Training Day?”

Matthew looked at me with sympathy and shook his head. “I don’t know why he calls it ‘Training Day.’ It’s really more like ‘Training Three Weeks.’ It’s a variation on the physical training you have to do for the military.” He looked at my expression, which was one of utter horror. “Aw, it’s not
that
bad. You’re in pretty good shape, right?”

“I’ve never even run a mile,” I said, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Well, you’re young. That’s at least in your favor,” Matthew said, kindly. “Here we are.”

He motioned me through the door to the yard, where they had erected a pop-up mess hall. There were two long tables set up, where the guys were sitting and eating; a canopy tent was overhead. There was no sign of Darius ... he wasn’t my favorite person, but I still hoped they were feeding him. Matthew showed me a buffet with serving dishes, plates, silverware and coffee. He grabbed some coffee and headed towards one of the tables. “Help yourself,” he called over his shoulder.

I started with a very large cup of coffee. I had a feeling I was going to need the extra energy. Then I grabbed a bagel and some cream cheese, because they looked familiar — something a mere mortal like me would eat. There were also lox and capers, I think, but I had never tried those before. Probably not best to be adventurous before military-style training, I reasoned. I turned and searched the room for John but I didn’t see him, so I slid into an empty seat away from the others. I noticed they were all in workout clothes, talking in boisterous voices to one another. They were all extremely fit; they probably looked forward to today.

I for one was not looking forward to it, but I dutifully drank my coffee and ate my bagel, even though there was a pit of dread in my stomach. Someone pulled back the seat next to me. I looked up into two kind blue eyes bracketed by a multitude of wrinkles.

“Well,
hello
,” said the older man. He was very dapper, wearing a cream linen blazer with a blue handkerchief sticking out of the pocket; he removed his straw fedora as he carefully sat down. “You must be Liberty,” he said, and extended his hand to shake mine. “I’m Ian, John’s father. It’s very nice to meet you.”

I quickly swallowed my bite of bagel so I could smile at him. “You as well,” I said, surprised at his firm handshake.

“So, are you ready for training?” he asked.

“Um, no, sir, not at all,” I said, sheepishly, and he laughed.

“Well, if you get too tired, you come up and see me at the big house. We can have iced tea and watch golf,” he said. “I mean it. I know John won’t want you to get hurt.”

“Of course I don’t want her to get hurt,” John said, appearing out of nowhere, smiling at his father. “But she’s not watching golf with you! Next thing I know, she’ll be obsessed, quoting statistics and talking about people’s drives.
Boring
,” he said. “I’d rather make an athlete out of her.”

He leaned down and kissed me, in front of everyone, as he sat down. “Good morning, darling.”

Both Ian and I just stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Well, I guess my son’s officially got a girlfriend,” said Ian, struggling a little bit to stand up. “It’s about time. And by the way, nice work.” He smiled roguishly at John. “Remember what I said about the iced tea,” he called to me, as he slowly made his way out of the mess hall. “
And
we have central air-conditioning…”