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Authors: Rosanna Leo

Vice (9 page)

BOOK: Vice
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“Well, I didn’t. And Bridget doesn’t know which way is up. Don’t play good daddy with me. I know you’re scum.”

“You’re pissed because Michelle’s my kid, not yours. And now the great Liam Doyle wants to get one of his prized possessions back.”

“She’s not a possession.” He curled his fist in the other man’s shirt.

“Could have fooled me, the way you’re after her. You got a special trophy case for her to live in?”

Kate sidled up to him and put a hand on his back. She felt his muscles tense, ready to lunge. “Liam, don’t rise to it.”

His eyes stayed locked on Andy. “He doesn’t deserve her.”

“I know. Come on. Let’s go sit down.”

Kate gently pried Liam off Andy. The crowd dispersed and the band resumed playing.

Andy straightened his collar and sneered. “Call off Perreira. And if I ever catch you trying to contact my wife or kid again, I’ll have you arrested.” He grunted. “You know, all this attention to another man’s daughter makes me think you might be a pervert. Some sort of sicko who gets off on children.”

Before she could stop him, Liam turned and let his fist fly. The resounding crack was one Kate would never forget. Andy fell back against the bar, cradling a bleeding nose.

“I’ll sue your fucking ass,” he shouted in a nasal voice. “I’ve got witnesses!”

A few of the men drew near, Beck and Nolan and a big man from behind the bar she assumed to be Franky. Beck ambled forward and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, friend,” he said. “It’s pretty dark in here. Hard to see.”

“Yeah,” echoed Nolan. “Hell, I’ve had so many beers tonight, I’m not even sure where I am.”

Franky helped Andy to his feet, but not out of kindness. “Get the fuck out of my bar, dipshit. I don’t like people who upset my regulars.” He wiped a glass with a tea towel, but his gesture indicated he’d rather wipe the floor with Andy.

Andy let out a laugh laced with spite and glared at Liam. “Guess you own this place too, huh?” Muttering to himself, he staggered out of the bar.

Kate ushered Liam back to their table. He still resembled a serpent waiting to strike, his shoulders and arms tight, and muscles coiled.

He turned to her as they sat down. “You don’t believe that garbage he was spewing, do you? Please tell me you don’t believe it.”

The crack in his voice moved her more than she’d expected. “Of course not. He’s angry and just wanted to hurt you. How did he even find you?”

He shook his head, staring at the table. “Bridget must have told him I come here. When I spotted him, I lost it.” He looked at her, his brows pulled together, his mouth tight. “I lost it, Kate. They’ve made it clear I’m not part of the family. Michelle’s not mine, but it’s so hard to see her saddled with that asshole. What do I do?”

She placed her hand on his leg. She longed to stroke his thigh, but she kept her hand still. What would Liam want with a nutty protester who’d been trying to shut him down a week ago? They were just nursing old wounds and trying to find a little bit of support in each other.

“You let them go, Liam. Just like I had to let my father go. Right here. Right now. For three years, you did right by that little girl, but for your own peace of mind, you need to say ‘goodbye.’ Call off your lawyer.”

“She won’t remember me.”

“But you’ll remember, and you’ll know you always acted in her best interests.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. I feel like I need to protect her from him. Do more for her.”

“A wise man once told me I needed to take care of myself, too.” She squeezed his leg, unable to resist the pull any longer. He covered her hand with his. “Take care of yourself. Give yourself what you need now.”

Liam gazed at her, his eyes bright. His expression, full of surprise and sudden heat, made her squirm in her seat. He leaned in and his masculine scent flooded her nostrils. He smelled so good, looked so good, and she wanted him more than she wanted anything else.

When he spoke, his voice low and his mouth near her ear, he shattered what was left of her resistance. “I need you, Kate. Fuck, I need you right now.”

“Oh…”

She barely got the exclamation out before he pulled her to him. God help her, she let herself be wrapped up in his arms and indulged in a moment she knew would inspire future, copious bouts of self-pleasure.

He pulled her against his wall of a chest, and she let out a squeak. His lips smashed against hers and she struggled to catch her breath under his unexpected but welcomed invasion. Their lips parted and his tongue slipped between hers, soft and strong all in one tasty package. She opened to him, panting, wanting more, wanting his touch all over her body.

She wanted him to kiss and lick and tease her. She craved the feel of his silky tongue on her neck, on her breasts and sliding between her swollen pussy lips. She wanted Liam Doyle to swallow her whole, ride her on a wave of orgasmic delight, and then do it all over again.

Cradling her head, he took her mouth in an even more demanding fashion. Minutes passed. She assumed it was minutes, but it might have been hours. When he finally released her, his pupils were large black circles rimmed in blue heat. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, no doubt appraising his handiwork. Her lips felt twice their size from his fervent caresses, and never better. She’d gladly endure puffy, bruised lips to feel those kisses again.

He looked deeply into her eyes, as if trying to glean whether she would accept more from him. “Kate,” he whispered. “I’m going to take you home now and I’m going to fuck you. Do you have a problem with that?”

Her eyelids fluttering, Kate shook her head.

“Say the words so it’s clear.”

She had words? She couldn’t seem to remember any right now.

Okay, Kate. Get it together. A very hot man just told you he wanted to do very naughty things to you. You need this.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

He didn’t smile but his face seemed to relax. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the booth. “That’s my girl.”

My girl? Kate barely registered anything as Liam waved goodbye to Franky and his biker pals. She just kept focused on the bar door, the portal that would lead her to a night of untold pleasure. Following him like a hungry puppy, she didn’t say a word as he bundled her into the Ford and drove away.

Only a week ago she’d been protesting Liam’s casino hotel, and now she was about to sleep with the man. Certainly he was just doing this to get out his frustration, to work off his testosterone after confronting Andy. If he’d been out with any other woman, the outcome would be the same. Surely she was going along with it because she had her own demons to dispel. And, although her exploits were hardly legendary, she knew enough to know that nothing vanquished demons like a night of rollicking sin.

She didn’t bloody well care. It wasn’t as if he’d asked to marry her. Like he’d said, they needed to take care of themselves right now, and she couldn’t think of a better way than where this night was headed.

After the way he’d kissed her, like a man tasting water after a walk in the desert, she was pretty sure he would assume control tonight. Not that she had a problem with that.

Yes, she would let Liam Doyle dominate the hell out of her. She just knew she’d wear a huge smile for hours after that.

She could hate herself for it in the morning.

Chapter Six

Liam drove to her apartment rather than his condo or Vice. Despite the hungry pumping of his heart, going to Kate’s place would give her an out in case they came to their senses.

He didn’t want to come to his senses.

Driven by a primal need to orchestrate what happened next, he fought the urge to grab her and throw her on the nearest surface. Not easy to do, considering he’d wanted to fuck Kate until she screamed his name. He needed to lose himself in her and forget the ghosts in his life, the ones that haunted him in spite of his successes.

As he tore up the freeway, he recognized what was really behind his needs. Andy had said Liam was pissed at losing Michelle, his possession. As much as he railed at the idea, he wondered now if there might be a kernel of truth in the statement.

He’d never been a gracious loser. When you’ve lost so much, it was hard to smile as life sodomized you again and again.

Part of the reason he had trouble letting go of Michelle was because others had let go of him without a thought for his feelings. Without one word of comfort.

Now he wanted to seek a different kind of comfort with Kate. What was so wrong about that? They both needed the release. They’d both planned on turning a page tonight. She’d already begun to dominate his every thought. Now he’d have a chance to dominate her for a while.

They arrived at her building and parked in back. Kate frowned at her purse, searching for her keys.

“Hey.” Liam ran a hand up her arm hoping to calm her as much as himself. “You can always say no.”

“I don’t want to say no,” she answered in a hushed voice, and handed him the keys.

He didn’t say another word as they got out of the car. They walked hand in hand as he led her up the staircase. He opened the door and locked it again behind them once they were inside.

He hadn’t taken note of her décor before. Her walls were coral, bright and cheerful. The focal point of the living room was an overstuffed chintz couch with big flowers. Bookshelves were crammed with books and decorative picture frames which housed photos of an older woman with auburn hair. Kate’s mom? He could ask later. He liked the atmosphere she’d created in these humble quarters. The place seemed warm and homey, much like her.

He looked towards Kate. Her ponytail rested on her shoulder and she played with the end. She was nervous. The knowledge excited him as much as it disappointed him. She seemed to look around everywhere but at him.

“Um, would you like a drink? Coffee? Or I think I have some iced tea in the fridge.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, like a gazelle getting ready to bolt.

He approached her, feeling as ravenous as a tiger, and allowed himself to linger on the cleavage that had intrigued him for days. “No drinks.”

She twisted the tip of her ponytail. “Right down to business, huh?”

He stood in front of her and breathed her in. Damn, she smelled good. It made him want to traipse barefoot through a fucking meadow. “I want to do something. I’ve wanted to do it since I met you.”

She frowned.

“Trust me, Kate. I won’t hurt you.” He reached around her head and gently tugged the elastic from her hair. He watched as its red radiance tumbled over her shoulders. So beautiful. He fingered the soft strands. “Damn, woman. You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to lose myself in all this hair.”

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing him.

“It’s true,” he said. “Just thinking of you on a bed, your hair spread out on a pillow, makes me so hard.”

Her blush made him even bolder.

He lowered his hand, rounding it over her hip, reaching toward her ass. Jesus, her curves felt so good. They seemed designed for his touch alone, and he longed to explore her more fully. To see what she hid under her sensible blouses. She gasped as he touched her, stiffened in his arms, but then relaxed into his caress. Just that little smidgeon of surrender had him biting his lip and straining in his jeans. “When I get your jeans off, gorgeous, am I going to find some more pretty red hair?”

In a moment of lustful madness, he grazed the area between her legs with one finger. Her knees gave into a quick buckle. “I don’t want to give too much away. Maybe you should find out.”

He grinned, tightening his grip with his other hand, holding her up. With one, slow caress, he removed his hand from between her legs. “I can’t wait to see you. All of you.” He turned her around, and marched her into the bedroom. Her every movement, every breath, spoke of desire and white-hot fire.

She wanted him, too.

Damn, he was going to enjoy this way too much for his own good.

What am I doing? This is Liam Doyle of Doyle Gaming. You hate him.

Only she didn’t.

Yes, she was uncomfortable with everything he stood for and didn’t understand how he could go to work every day and not feel an ounce of regret. But she didn’t hate Liam the man. In fact, she realized she quite liked him. Wanted to please him. And there was no denying how much he attracted her. Like a gawker at a roadside crash, she couldn’t look away.

Surely the sentiment was bad. She didn’t understand the pull he had on her, like a vicious undertow, dragging her into frightening new depths. But in this moment, as he began to undress her, she was more than willing to drown.

His hands traveled slowly over her frame, stroking and teasing as he slid them under her shirt. Each focused glide of his hands proof of his sexual prowess. How many women had he undressed in the same, torturous manner? Each confident touch let her know that he must have had his share of women.

Once her shirt was off, he cupped her breasts over her most worn bra. Her nipples came to stiff points under his palms, the thin layer of silk barely a barrier. Why hadn’t she thought to change her underwear? Probably because she’d never dreamed she’d actually jump into bed with the owner of the casino she’d been picketing a week ago.

How could she do this and look herself in the face tomorrow?

“You’re so quiet,” he whispered, scratching his thumbnail over her one nipple. “Second thoughts?”

Second thoughts? Hell, she barely had first thoughts. She should probably turn him away in the loudest, clearest voice she could muster. But she didn’t want to.

Tonight, he was her own personal vice.

“No.”

As soon as the word had escaped between her lips, an image of Lisa’s kids sprang to mind. Were Georgie and Sarah miserable because their dad was caught up in a gambling spiral? Probably. In letting Liam take her to bed, surely she was betraying them. Betraying herself?

He leaned in and licked at her neck, a sweet temptation that destroyed her resolve. Her normal breathing escalated into pants, and Liam stepped back and looked her over from head to toe.

“Undress for me.”

Oh, nuts. What did he want, a striptease? She was pretty sure she’d look like a lame goose if she tried to shimmy like a pole dancer. “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s clear, sugar. I want to watch you take your clothes off.” His mouth set in a tight line, he sat on the bed. Liam Doyle on
her
bed. She bet if she looked outside, she’d also find the sun and moon colliding. He leaned back on his arms, and waited.

Okay. How hard could it be, disrobing before a man who looked like he belonged on the cover of Esquire magazine? He’d already started her off by removing her shirt.

Wishing she were more graceful, she toed off her Keds, doing her best not to avert her eyes. She supposed she should be returning his sultry gaze, but was pretty sure she resembled someone about to throw up.

“Kate,” he interjected. “I already think you’re stunning with your clothes on. Trust me, the view will only get better.” He glanced at her hips. “Take off your jeans.”

Channeling the badass warrior woman who had protested at Vice, she unzipped her jeans and slid them off, then removed her bra and slid her cotton panties down and stepped out of them, all without thinking of repercussions or guilt or gambling.

Tonight, he was just a man and she was just a woman. And they both needed this.

For that reason, she did what her body was aching for her to do. She caressed her breast, plucking at her nipple.

“Fuck,” he muttered, palming his cock over his jeans. “Keep doing that.”

She drew closer to his prone body, standing between his spread legs, and touched both her breasts. Repeating a move she’d once seen in a cheesy porn movie, she licked her fingers and circled them around her nipples. He stared, glassy with hunger, and went for his belt buckle. Okay, maybe porn stars knew a thing or two.

It seemed strange to be completely nude before his still-clothed form, but when Liam released his cock, she stopped caring. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his exposed member. It throbbed for her, and she dropped to her knees. Laying her hands on his thighs, she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

He tasted good, salty, clean and strangely sweet. He moaned as her lips tightened and grew harder inside her mouth, twitching with need. Kate lapped at a drop of precum. His flavor coated her tongue, whetting her appetite for him, making her want more. She rubbed his thighs, stroking tense muscles, and took him to the back of her throat.

He let out a string of curses that almost made her laugh. Thinking Liam Doyle was enjoying her blowjob was enough to make her giddy. She continued to lick happily, but then he grabbed her shoulders and eased her up.

“I can’t take it,” he said. “To see you on your knees, naked, sucking me off…Jesus, I’ll come like a teenaged boy during his first porn.”

“But…”

“No, sugar.” He got up and laid her down on the bed, then slid down her body. “You come first.” His blue eyes glittered, hypnotic gems, as he spread her legs.

She couldn’t look away as he met with her pussy for the first time. He traced her lips with his thumbs, sending delicious jolts through her system, and exposed her clit. To tease her, he tugged at her red pubic hairs, and winked. And right before she lost herself completely and begged him to take her, he lowered his head and….

She threw her head back on the bed as his tongue swirled.
Oh God, I did need this!
He administered the sweetest of torments, slow licks that made her doubt her sanity. So good, so good.

He groaned, as if relishing each fresh taste of her juices. Each small sound ratcheted up her lust, driving her closer to pleasure’s pinnacle. Two fingers, then three, slid inside her and he gauged her response. With each small twist of his wrist as he massaged her, she grew wetter and her body seemed to lighten and float. She just needed a pinprick to set her off, and she’d careen into the sky.

“You’re delicious.” He stopped a moment to kiss the inside of her thigh, then suckled her clit.

“Oh, Jesus!” The shrieking voice, as unfamiliar as it seemed, was hers. She came, and Liam continued sucking until he’d wrung the last shudder from her body. Shock and fucking awe.

Even as her legs crumpled and her knees folded inward, he held her open and continued to lap. Her body flailed as new spasms shot through her. When they did subside, she wriggled under him, enjoying the warmth and wetness he’d created. He finally moved from between her legs and sat next to her, smiling wickedly at his handiwork.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe what you did to me,” she said on a breath. “You, of all people.”

The corners of his mouth began to droop. He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand and looked away.

Shit. She sat up, blinking over burning eyes. “I’m sorry, Liam. That came out the wrong way.”

He tucked his still-hard dick back into his jeans and stared at her, his face suffused with a strange mix of hunger and disappointment. For a second, she glimpsed a frightening gleam in his eyes. The embodiment of Bridget’s words: a punisher. A man who held grudges and never forgot. His cold, blue eyes now held a feral glint, and made him appear capable of anything. All traces of congenial Liam disappeared, and only a hard shell seemed to remain.

This angry Liam scared her.

From this man, she expected some sort of retaliation. She could feel her muscles tense in anticipation.

However, as quickly as she spied the fury in his gaze, it disappeared. Those husky eyes softened, becoming more like that of a scorned puppy.

After the longest, most awkward moment of her life, he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He let his fingers graze her in the gentlest of gestures, and considered her face. Under his quiet scrutiny, she sighed, her body wanting to relax into him.

He got up from the bed, reached for her shirt and placed it over her head, feeding her arms through the sleeves as if she were a doll. And she let him dress her. She fucking let him.

He took a step back. “Good-night, Kate.”

As he walked out of her bedroom, she finally rallied herself. “Wait.”

His back was to her, his shoulders rounded and tense. He looked over his shoulder, but not at her. “Make no mistake. I want you, but not like this. Not when you hate yourself for being with me.” He glanced at her. “I’m not a villain, Kate. Once you figure that out, maybe we can talk.”

She didn’t move, and listened as he walked out, closing the door behind him. She stayed frozen to her spot, listening to his fading footsteps on the metal staircase outside until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

And then she tried to devise a way to deliver a swift kick to her own ass.

One hour and a demolished pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream later, Kate stared at the TV, clothed in her favorite terrycloth robe. Normally, sliding into the fluffy garment would elicit a sigh of relief from her. Tonight, the fabric grated. After all, she’d felt Liam’s hands and tongue on her body. Nothing else would ever feel as good. Not silk or expensive lotions. Hell, not even a bath in chocolate sauce.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered. “It was just an emotionless one-night stand that got all fucked up.”

Only her emotions were currently riding at an all-time low. Her emotions felt like dust that had been scattered in the wind.

She’d hurt him.

BOOK: Vice
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