His Assignment: Chapters 11-15

Chapter 11

Liam is so annoying.

He lets out another exaggerated huff before the sound of him rolling over makes its way to my ears. I don't care if the floor is uncomfortable, and I hope it hurts his back.

I also wish he didn't keep me awake with his constant moaning and groaning.

The room falls silent, but I know better than to believe it. This is Liam's go-to move, lulling me into a false sense of sleep before waking me up once more with his insufferable whining.

When he does it again precisely three minutes later, I resist the urge to scream and slam a pillow over my face in a sad attempt to block him out. I know what he's trying to do. He's hoping I feel bad and offer for him to join me in the bed.

It's not going to happen.

Not in a million years.

Not in a billion years.

When Liam finally falls silent for longer than five minutes, I let my body relax and my eyes grow heavy. It's about damn time he fell asleep. The sky has been dark for hours, and I don't even want to think about how miserable I will be when the sun starts to shine in the morning.

I'm the type of girl that thrives off a good night's rest.

"Fuck!" I shout when Liam groans and rolls over. "Will you stop moving?"

"Until you're the one sleeping on wooden planks with one sad sheet and pillow, I don't want to hear it."

I'm going to rip my hair out.

Liam shifts again, his heavy body making the ground creak, and I kick my feet against the mattress like a child before sitting up and glaring over the end of the bed at him.

The fire illuminates his face, and I notice it's pinched with pain until he realizes I'm looking at him and hides it away. His expression hardens as he meets my glare head-on, and despite knowing I'm going to regret this, I huff and pat the spot next to me.

I may be a miserable bitch, but a small, minuscule part of me feels pity after seeing his visible pain.

The only time I've spent on the floor was when we were having sex, and even I have to admit it left me with a little tinge in my spine.

The meathead doesn't hesitate to stand and collect his belongings, his movements more confident than I think they deserve to be. A second later he's dropping them onto the bed, and I move over and huddle against the side pushed up to the wall as he pulls back the covers and climbs in.

Immediately I feel his body heat warming the air under the blanket, and when he stretches so wide his leg touches my foot, I kick it.

"Stay on your side," I snap.

Liam rolls away, and I smirk at the scratch marks on his shoulders before flopping onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. I hate him, but at least I'll have a night spent without chattering teeth.

Body heat is all Liam's good for, and if he tries to make a big deal about this, that's exactly what I'll say.

I'm using you for your warmth. You're nothing more than a heated blanket. I pitied you and your sad cries and decided to let you enjoy one night of comfort. How merciful of me.

He should thank me for this.

The sound of the firewood burning is soothing, and I listen to it as Liam's breathing deepens. He's asleep within minutes, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the sheer childishness of it. It must be nice to have so few thoughts in your mind that you can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

I couldn't have been any older than eight or nine the last time I did that.

Eventually I'm able to settle down my mind enough to get comfortable, and shut my eyes as I imagine a version of me five years from now where I'm working at an upscale art gallery and going to fancy parties with the top names in the industry.

That dream is all but crushed now, thanks to Liam, but it still feels good to imagine.

There's a chance I'll be able to redeem myself and my sudden disappearance from the gallery I was hired, but it will likely take years. Word spreads quickly through the art world, and having somebody big speak poorly about you can be near impossible to overcome.

When sleep finds me I'm happy, but when I wake up in the morning to an empty bed and cold sheets, I'm convinced I imagined everything.

Liam's on the floor doing his daily stretches, and I peer at him, trying to recall whether last night was real. His pillow and sheets are on the bed, which inclines me to believe it was, but there's no way he would have gotten up without me noticing.

I'm a notoriously light sleeper, and Liam's too big to move without disrupting the mattress.

"Did you crawl into my bed last night?" I ask.

Liam straightens back up before turning toward me. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he cocks his head to the side, and I resist the urge to throw a pillow at his face. Being around assholes isn't anything new to me, but I don't know what it is about Liam that drives me so crazy.

He makes me angrier than any man I've ever had the displeasure of stumbling across before, and I'm having trouble controlling my impulsive thoughts.

"I wouldn't say crawl is the right word, but yes, I slept in your bed," Liam eventually answers.

He has the audacity to look bored as he speaks to me, which only makes me angrier. God, I hate this man.

"What would you call it then?"

The way his lips curl tells me I'm about to blow a fuse, and I suck in a slow breath as he grins and plants a fake solemn expression on his face.

"Well, after you practically begged me to join you in—"

"I did not beg you to do anything," I interrupt.

I know he's not being serious and only saying it to get a rise out of me, but that knowledge does nothing to curb my frustration. Liam's always trying to allude to me having some crush on him, which is entirely untrue.

Only a blind fool would ever find him endearing.

"—join you in bed," Liam continues, acting as if he hasn't even heard me. "I decided to be kind and accept. You seemed so scared in the way you-"

"I was not scared."

Stop. Fucking. Engaging.

He wants this exact reaction from me, and I'm only embarrassing myself by giving it. I force my ears to tune out the rest of Liam's words, and chant about my hatred of him in my head as I climb out of bed and search through my bag for clothing.

I've been trying to keep everything as clean as possible using the spigot outside, but they're still getting a bit rank. My nose crinkles as I scratch at the crotch of my underwear. The fabric has grown too crusty to be worn again.

Although wearing dirty underwear and smelling up the entire cabin with dirty vagina would be an excellent way to piss Liam off.

"You mentioned being able to clean our laundry at the lake?" Liam asks.

I turn in his direction, and I'm unsurprised to see he's looking through his own pile of clothing. I'm sure they're in no better state than mine, and I don't bother hiding my disgust as he lifts a shirt to his nose and smells it.

He shakes his head and drops it on the floor a second later, and I hesitate before reaching over and snatching it up.

It's disgusting, so fucking disgusting, but I don't mind his smell. I'm ashamed to admit that I actually kind of like it, and I avoid meeting his eye as I tug it over the sports bra I wore to bed. It's definitely reaching the tail end of being wearable, but I'll take what I can get.

I'd rather wear his smelly shirt than another one of my own.

"Yeah. We can build a small pool with rocks, and I think I can use the body soap you bought to wash everything out. It's not ideal, but it will do," I say before hesitating and clearing my throat. "We could also just go to a laundromat."

Liam doesn't respond, and I purse my lips before casting a sideways glance at him.

He looks like he's contemplating my suggestion, and I do everything I can not to look too excited and ruin it.

"I promise I'll be good," I continue.

He's only left once to get groceries, and the way he snuck out tells me he's hesitant to leave me alone. Or, at least, he's reluctant to leave me alone when I know I'm alone.

Objectively I understand why, even if I hate it. The second Liam leaves, I'll be trying to run away.

I'm also willing to admit that I'm not the best boy scout, and would probably get myself killed, injured, or lost in the process. If Liam goes to the laundromat, he will have to take me with him and we both know it.

"They have ones that are open twenty-four hours a day so we can go in the middle of the night when nobody else is there. I swear I'll be good," I plead.

I can wash our clothing in the lake if necessary, but it would be so much better to have an actual washing machine and laundry soap.

"No."

No?

I wait for further explanation, but Liam offers none. Is that all he's going to say? It's not like I'd make it far even if I were to try and run, and I doubt Liam is highly concerned about some random people calling the police on him.

Those laundromats never have working cameras, and I'm sure the moment I tried making a scene, he'd have me thrown into the back of his car and be driving away within seconds.

"Please," I beg.

Liam drops his chin to his chest. The action is a sign of weakness, and I don't hesitate to crawl forward until I'm kneeling next to him. He tries to ignore me by resuming his search for something clean to wear, and I grab his bag and pull it away so I can place myself in its position.

His sigh is loud and full of frustration, but I know he wants to do it so I continue to try. Nobody enjoys wearing dirty clothing all day long, even people who are as despicable and disgusting as Liam.

"I'll let you sleep in my bed for an entire week," I offer.

I fiddle with the hem of my shirt before huffing and fisting the fabric in my hands.

"Three weeks," Liam retorts.

"Do you think we'll be here for another three weeks?"

Liam's only response is a shrug. He still hasn't heard from my father, which isn't a good sign, and after a while, I stopped asking. I'm not sure what's happened that daddy dearest felt the need to hide me away and I doubt Liam would tell me if I asked, but the length of time it's taken for him to reach out is concerning.

I've never been taken into hiding for longer than a week, and we're going on almost three.

I think.

I haven't exactly been counting the days.

"Two weeks," I negotiate.

Liam shakes his head, but the way the corner of his lip twitches tells me he's enjoying this far more than he's letting on. He's always finding enjoyment in ruining my mood. I bet it's a personal game for him. How long does it take to make Catherine lose her mind?

He's exceptionally good at it.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and gnaw at the loose skin. Liam doesn't back down, and after a tense minute, I groan and dip my head in agreement. I'm desperate for clean clothes, and if that means I have to spend my nights with a meathead furnace by my side, then so be it.

"Three weeks. Deal," I say before he can change his mind.

Three weeks of Liam sleeping in my bed.

Kill me now.

Chapter 12

Liam’s a lousy driver.

I hold the door for dear life as he pulls into the laundromat and kills the engine.

“I think I’m going to puke,” I whisper.

Liam ignores me, too busy peering into the glass windows of the building. It’s empty inside, with not a person in sight. That’s good. I’m pretty sure he’d be starting the car back and driving us back to our shitty little cabin if it were busy.

When his attention slides to me, I resist the urge to sigh. Not this again.

“If I so much as get an inkling that you’re up to something, I’ll throw you in the back and leave. I don’t care if our clothes are in the middle of the cycle,” he threatens.

He’s such a killjoy.

I plaster my best solemn expression on my face as I nod and lift three fingers into the air. Liam sucks his cheeks into his mouth, and it takes everything in me not to bust out laughing as I clear my throat and let out a loud exhale.

“Scout’s honor,” I promise.

He blinks, and I can practically feel the anger and annoyance pouring out of him as he turns and pushes open his car door. He gets out and slams it for good measure, and I hum happily to myself as I follow him.

I’m happy with how he avoids me entirely as he grabs our dirty clothing from the trunk and carries it inside.

Making him angry is always so satisfying, and I’m starting to get good at it.

The bell above the door chimes as we step into the laundromat and a few moments later some lanky guy comes wandering out of the back. He wears an oversized sweater and has a giant pair of headphones sealed over his ears, and he glances between the two of us before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turning back around.

I look at Liam the moment he disappears, but he’s still refusing to look at me.

It seems I really made him angry with my boy scouts joke. Good.

One point for me, zero for Liam.

Liam storms over to the nearest washer and dumps in all our clothes and I resist the urge to scream as I run over and begin yanking them back out. What the fuck is he doing? Has he never washed laundry before?

“Can I help you?” he snaps, nudging me to the side.

I frown, unappreciative of his shoving, before jabbing my elbow as hard as I can into his side. Liam hisses but doesn’t do much else. He probably doesn’t want to draw attention.

The guy who works here may not physically be in the same room, but I’m sure there are cameras in here he’s using to monitor us.

“You need to separate the whites,” I explain.

Liam is an absolute idiot if this is how he’s been doing laundry his entire life. I’m surprised his white shirts are even still crisp. He must be buying new ones every month when they inevitably get dingy.

“I don’t think it matters, Cathy.”

I hate when he calls me that, and I resist the urge to shiver as I grab a pair of his underwear and throw it in with the other whites.

“Katie,” I correct. “I like being called Katie.”

My statement is met with silence, and I refuse to look at him out of sheer anxiety. I shouldn’t have told him that. He only calls me Cathy because he knows I don’t like it, and correcting him has only given him more fuel.

He was just assuming I hated it before, but now I’ve shown my annoyance and confirmed it.

That was stupid.

“Katie,” Liam repeats my name, his voice quiet.

I nod, still refusing to look at him. Despite how much I hate him, I must admit that a small, minuscule part of me likes hearing him say my preferred name.

Liam’s got a deep voice, and if being a meathead for my father doesn’t work out for him, he’s got a career in audio erotica waiting for him.

My lips purse as I debate whether or not to tell him that, but I’m worried he’d turn it around to me being attracted to him so I don’t. He would enjoy that too much.

I do my best to hide my shock when Liam reaches into the washer and helps to pull out the whites. I expected him to put up more of a fight. There aren’t many, but it’s enough for a small load. Liam buys soap from a small dispenser by the front door, and I sit on a small bench while I wait for him to return.

Hopefully these machines don’t take too long.

The laundromat isn’t well heated, and the cool outside air is seeping in and freezing up the building. I wrap my arms around myself when Liam returns, and after only a slight hesitation, I take the coins and soap from him so I can start the machines myself.

After seeing him try to throw everything in one load, I no longer trust him.

“Do you want to wait in the car?” Liam asks.

What?

I wait for the machines to start before turning to face him. His eyes are locked in on my arms, and I glance down to see they’re covered in goosebumps. Is Liam actually concerned about me? The thought is laughable.

He probably just wants to keep me as secluded as possible. There’s less risk of me screaming and making a scene when there’s nobody around to hear or see me.

Liam continues to stare at my arms, and I give my biceps a rub before shrugging and heading to the door.

He’s only doing this to save his own ass, but I’m cold and I’d rather not spend the next two hours sitting on a hard bench in a dingy laundromat. Liam unlocks the car as I approach, and I pull open the door and make myself comfortable while he does the same.

“Are you hungry?”

What?

“We passed a Mcdonald’s on the way and I figured we could get some drive-thru while we wait,” he continues.

Has Liam injured himself? Maybe he knocked his head and I didn’t notice. That’s the only explanation for his strange behavior.

“Who are you and what happened to Liam?” I ask.

Liam raises a brow before shrugging. The corners of his lips twitch, but that’s the only indication he gives that he thinks my joke is funny.

That’s fine.

I don’t need him to think my jokes are funny. I already know they are. Besides, Liam doesn’t have a sense of humor in the first place so he probably doesn’t even know what a joke is or how to read one.

“Is that a yes or no to the food?” he says, ignoring my question entirely.

I’m not surprised and am even less so when he starts the car and pulls out before hearing my answer.

“What about our clothes?” I blurt, spinning to watch as the laundromat disappears from my line of sight.

Anybody could come in and steal them.

“We’ll be back soon,” he says.

“Yes, and we’ll return to nothing,” I snap.

I’m honestly not that worried about them, but there’s just something inside me that loves to argue with Liam. I like how he gets worked up and I like it even more when I get him so angry his face turns red.

Red Liam is my favorite Liam.

He ignores me and continues driving the few minutes to the Mcdonald’s we passed earlier. There’s no line, and I whisper for him to order me a nugget meal and a burger on the side when we pull up to the microphone.

“You’re not going to eat all that,” he says, rolling down his window.

Why must he ruin everything?

“Yes, I will," I argue.

Liam turns and shoots me a sharp look before shaking his head and putting in the order. He gets himself a large burger meal and one of their little deserts, and by the time we pull up to the window, I can barely contain my excitement.

I’m so ready for this.

Liam pays, and I lean over the center console while waiting for the food to come out. The aren’t many workers inside, probably because it’s so late, but they still get the food to us relatively quickly. This is the best thing I’ve ever been given.

I expect Liam to pull into a nearby parking spot to eat, but instead, he gets right back on the road.

“Can I have a fry?” he asks.

I reach into the bag and grab a few. They’re hot, and I grimace as I lift and shove them in Liam’s face. He opens his mouth, and I’m ungraceful in the way I push them between his lips.

His lips graze against my fingers, and I pretend I don’t notice as I pull back and grab a fry from the bag for myself.

Liam and I chew in silence, and the second I hear him swallow I reach into the bag and feed him another one.

I do this another three times before realizing what the fuck I’m doing and setting the bag on the floor between my feet. Who the fuck do I look like hand-feeding this man his fries? Liam doesn’t ask for more, and I clench my thighs together and look away as I watch him lick his lips.

Stop it, Katie!

What the fuck is wrong with me tonight?

When we pull up to the laundromat I’m happy to note our clothes are still inside, and I clear my throat before grabbing our bag and pulling out the food.

“I haven’t had fast food in years,” Liam admits.

I blink, shocked.

“Years?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” I ask, unable to comprehend how somebody could go so long without eating this greasy heaven.

Liam laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I don’t know. I never think to go,” he explains.

That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

“That’s so sad,” I say, shaking my head from side to side before pulling open my nuggets and shoving one in my mouth. Fuck, these are good. “It sounds like you’ve lived a miserable life before getting the honor of ruining mine.”

Liam darts forward and snatches the nugget in my hand. I gasp, staring at my now-empty fingers, before grabbing another and shoving it into my mouth before he can steal that one, too.

He holds eye contact as he eats my food—cocky bastard.

“Are you excited to sleep in bed with me tonight?” he asks, changing the subject to one I’d rather die than speak about.

Why’s he always doing this? I refuse to let him embarrass me as I straighten my spine and shake my head.

“I wouldn’t say I am, but I’ve always been a fan of charity.” I quip.

Oh. That was a good one.

Liam licks his lips.

“Charity. Is that how you see me?”

I nod and shove another nugget in my mouth. My claim is a bit of a stretch considering I’m sitting in his car eating food he bought me, but it’s the thought that counts and I think he’s a charity case.

“I’ll remember you said that the next time you beg to wear a pair of my underwear to bed.” Liam’s expression grows heavy as he slides his gaze down my body, the look in his eye one I’ve only seen when he had me pinned underneath him earlier this week. “Although I like you in them, so maybe I’ll forget.”

I gulp.

“You like it when I wear them?” I ask.

My words lack the anger I want them to convey and come out sounding breathy. For fuck’s sake. I need to get my shit together.

Liam nods before leaning back in his seat.

He’s toying with me. I know he is.

“I know you like wearing them, too,” he continues.

How am I supposed to respond to that? If I argue and say I don’t, he’s just going to say he doesn’t believe me. If I say I do, it means he wins. Neither of these are good options.

It takes everything in me not to engage, and I force myself to turn away and shove another nugget into my mouth. This game I’m playing with Liam is dangerous, and it’s one he’s clearly better at than me.

I hate him, and it’s best I don’t get that confused with lust.

That never ends well.

Chapter 13

Liam looks like he’s about to burst an artery.

His face is a deep red, and he’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles have gone white.

I’m happy to see it, and I bounce out of his car the moment he puts it in park. He doesn’t move, and I rip open the back door and grab our clean laundry before happily skipping inside.

Liam takes about five minutes to follow me.

He was annoyed when I started singing along to the radio, but he was a fool if he thought turning it off would keep me from expressing myself. I know many songs by heart, and I’m happy to have had the opportunity to show him so.

“Well, don’t you just look chipper,” I tease as he pushes open the door and steps inside.

Liam shoots me a frosty glare, and I offer a wide grin before grabbing a fresh pair of pajamas and getting dressed. I hide behind the kitchen island so he can’t see me, but Liam doesn’t offer me the same courtesy as he changes in the center of the room.

A little modesty goes a long way.

“Your penis gets quite small when soft,” I say.

It’s untrue, but I enjoy the way Liam’s hands clench into tight fists by his sides.

He doesn’t say a word as he approaches the fire and adds a few new logs. It got pretty low while we were at the laundromat, and the cabin is absolutely freezing.

I climb into bed with an exaggerated shiver. I’m not tired, but there’s nothing to do but sleep when the sun goes down. Liam walks around the cabin, checking all the doors and tidying up while I roll onto my side and stare at the wall.

I promised to let him sleep in my bed, and even if I find his need for comfort annoying, I’m not going to go back on my word.

Liam pulls back the covers after a few minutes, his movements slow. He pauses before climbing in, probably waiting to see if I banish him onto the floor. It brings me comfort to know he’d do it if I asked.

Liam’s an asshole, but he’s made a pointed effort not to do anything I’m uncomfortable with.

He settles in bed behind me, his body heat immediately warming the space under the sheets. It’s admittedly nice.

We fall into silence, and I listen to the low crackling of the fireplace as I will my body to fall asleep. It’s late, thanks to Liam’s insistence that we go to the laundromat at the most inconvenient time, but the McDonalds has awakened something feral inside me.

It’s been so long since I last had fast food, and it was everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Liam’s hand lands on my hip.

Every muscle in my body grows stiff.

There’s no way he’s done this on accident. Should I brush him away? He hasn’t made any advances since he fucked me after I attempted to steal his keys while he was sleeping, and that was days ago.

I know he’s awake, and I hold my breath as I wait to see what he’s going to do next.

Liam taps his fingertips against me, the movement slow and light. The touch feels good, and I press my thighs together as they find their way under my shirt and press against my bare skin.

I should put a stop to this.

Sex with Liam was a mistake, and I already messed up once.

We both know this is a bad decision.

The hand on my hip slides to the waistband of my shorts, and despite my better thoughts, I find myself lifting up as he hooks his thumbs into them and pulls them down my legs. I kick them off my feet.

My breathing feels too loud in the otherwise silent room, and I do my best to remain quiet as Liam begins to shift behind me. I want to know what he’s doing, but I have a feeling that any movement will ruin this. I want to pretend it’s not even happening.

It makes me feel less guilty.

I hate how attracted I am to Liam, and the ache between my thighs grows as he returns his hand to my side and presses his hips against mine. He’s still wearing his underwear, but he’s removed his cock from behind the fabric.

It’s erect, that much is evident, and I bury my face into my pillow as he presses himself against my butt. He’s warm and so fucking hard, and I’m painfully aware of just how amazing it was the last time he was inside me.

Liam hums, the noise vibrating against my spine as he pulls back and lines himself up. I spread my thighs to make it easier, my shameful desire growing. This is wrong.

I’m embarrassed by how wet I know I already am, and Liam presses the tip of himself against my entrance before slowly easing inside. The stretch feels good, and his hand on my hip tightens as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he gasps.

I bite my lip to stay silent, and Liam lets out a quiet moan as he rocks himself in and out. The drag of his length feels fantastic, and I can’t help but pant into the sheets.

My eyes screw shut, and Liam tightens his hold on my waist as he quickens his pace. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I can feel his bare skin pressed against the spots where my shirt’s ridden up. I want to take off my top and feel the entirety of him against me, but I won’t ask.

He’d find too much enjoyment in that.

“You like this?” Liam whispers, his voice so quiet I can barely make out the words. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

I refuse to answer, but Liam hardly seems to mind as he slides a hand up my shirt and cups my breasts. He moans as he palms them, and I jerk against him as his thumb and forefinger find my nipple and give it a sharp pinch.

“Does it make you feel good to know you make my cock hard?” he continues. “That despite how fucking annoying you are, I can’t stop myself from sinking into your warm cunt?”

I gasp and push back against him, needy for more.

Liam’s quick to give it, his movements picking up speed. He drives into me with hard, even thrusts, and I spread my thighs so he can push in even deeper.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” I spit.

I’m desperate to say it, desperate for him to know it. He’s a fool if he thinks he’ll win my obedience by fucking me. I still hate him, and welcoming his cock into my body isn’t going to change that.

Liam rolls himself onto me, and I curse as I’m pushed onto my stomach. He props himself up on his elbows as he cages in my thighs with his, and I bury my face into my pillow as he sits up so he can see my ass.

The fire provides just enough light, and I stiffen when he grabs my cheeks and spreads them.

“Liam!” I gasp.

He moans.

“I love watching your pussy take me.”

He releases my cheeks with a laugh, and I curl my fingers into the sheets as he drops his chest onto my back and quickens his thrusts. It has no business feeling as good as it does, and I feel my orgasm build with each shameful movement of his hips.

It’s intense, and I love the feeling of his weight pressing into me. I’ve always liked being held down, and Liam seems to have picked up on that.

He pants in my ear as he fucks me, and I bring my hands to my head to push my hair out of my face. The strands keep getting into my mouth, and Liam gags as I throw it behind me and he breathes it in.

“Katie!” he huffs, pausing to help me move my hair out of the way.

My lips curl as a quiet laugh emerges from my chest, but I quickly stiffen when I realize he’s just called me by my chosen name. It feels wrong for him to say it during such an intimate moment, almost like we’re lovers and not enemies.

That’s not what this is.

Liam cups the back of my neck as he begins to thrust into me again, his cock gliding easily.

“I hate you,” I say, needing something to ruin our almost soft moment.

Sex with Liam was never supposed to happen, and I need it to be known that it doesn’t mean anything. I’d hate for him to fall in love with me and get all clingy. He’s nothing more than one of my father’s meatheads, and I’d do well not to forget that.

“You hate me, princess?” Liam gasps, mock offended. “For what?”

He rolls his hips back before smoothly pushing back in, his pace painfully slow.

“For protecting you?”

I bite the pillow as he slides his hand around my waist and between my thighs.

“For letting you wear my clothes and boss me around?”

His fingers find my clit, and I cry out as he circles the sensitive spot with practiced ease.

“For making you cum?”

My thighs shake as he continues easing in and out of me in slow, gentle movements. It’s a drastic change from his hard fucking, and I hate how much I love it.

I hate it.

I hate it.

I hate it.

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

He needs to know that I detest everything he is and everything he stands for. Liam has kidnapped me and ruined my life. It’s his fault I’ve lost everything I’ve worked for, and I can’t let his big dick and filthy words lull me into forgetting it.

“No, fuck you, princess,” Liam hisses.

His lips meet the back of my neck a second later, and I cry out as they trail to my shoulder and end in a sharp bite. Fuck.

He knows I hate when he calls me princess, but I still clench around him as the word slips from his lips.

I jerk underneath him as my orgasm builds, and Liam continues to circle my clit as he quickens his thrusts. His hips smack against my ass with each fuck, and I let out a loud whine as I’m pushed over the edge.

Liam moans as I cum, something about my tight cunt slipping from his lips as he plants his hands into the mattress on either side of my head and drives into me. My entire body jerks with the force of his thrusts, and with a low groan, he abruptly sits up and grabs my hips.

He uses my hips to pull me up and down his shaft, the man essentially using me as some sex toy. I let him, secretly loving how he uses me for pleasure.

It only takes a few seconds for him to release, and he collapses on top of me as he cums.

It feels good until I remember the mess it’s about to make, and I wiggle around until he rolls away.

“This was a mistake,” I’m quick to say as I scamper off the bed.

I pointedly grab his shirt and bring it between my legs. He drips out of me, and I glare daggers at him as he rolls onto his back, tucks himself back into his underwear, and brings his hands behind his head.

He looks relaxed, and I want nothing more than to ruin it.

Cocky bastard.

I also hate how I’m standing here in only my shirt looking like fucking Pooh bear.

Liam drags his eyes down my body, and I debate turning away before deciding I don’t want him seeing my clenched butt cheeks any more than I want him to see my flushed face and messy thighs.

“Would you like me to clear the outhouse of spiders and get some water heated, or would that be too much aftercare for you,” he asks.

I open my mouth, prepared to tell him I’d like him to suck my balls and leave me alone, before changing course and giving a jerky nod. I need to pee if I don’t want to get a UTI, and it would be nice to have some warm water to clean myself with.

Liam climbs out of bed, and I give myself one more wipe with his t-shirt before slipping my shorts back on and following him outside. He doesn’t take long to clear the outhouse of spiders, and I rush to pee before they many another appearance.

Spiders are the bane of my existence, and a small, minuscule part of me is grateful that Liam is so open to constantly brushing them away. I don’t know what I would do if we were both afraid of them.

I’d probably resort to relieving myself in the woods.

Liam’s already heating the water when I make my way back inside, and I lean against the door to watch him before stepping further into the cabin and awkwardly hovering near him. I don’t want to sit down until I’ve cleaned my thighs.

“You can’t finish inside me next time,” I say.

Liam turns and shoots me a sly smirk.

“Are you hoping for a next time?”

I gulp, annoyed by how perfectly I set myself up for that one. I step forward and peer into the small pot of water he’s warming. Things don’t feel as awkward between us as I think they should, and the knowledge that I’m getting comfortable around him fills me with dread.

I must be developing a case of Stockholm syndrome.

That’s the only explanation.

Liam continues to warm the water, and once it’s heated to a suitable temperature, he tosses me a washcloth and steps aside. I take my time cleaning myself, glad to finally be able to remove his cum from between my legs.

Liam climbs into bed, the oversized brute thankfully sticking to his side, and when I finish cleaning myself, I not so gracefully climb over him to my side. I make no attempts to avoid sticking my bony knees and elbows into him while I do so, and I feel a wide grin spread over my face as he makes a noise of pain and practically flings me over him.

Under the sheets are warm thanks to our earlier actions and his body heat, and I situate myself just close enough that I can leech off Liam’s body heat without touching him.

I’d rather die than cuddle with the meathead.

Chapter 14

I shove my foot under my thigh and shuffle our deck of cards. They’re so old they’re falling apart, but beggars can’t be choosers. It gives me something to keep my hands busy.

“Do you even like working for my dad?” I ask.

Liam purses his lips, his movements slowing as he sets a new log in the fireplace. Embers spew up into the chimney before settling, but Liam hardly seems concerned about them as he grabs a poker and pushes the log into place.

I’m surprised he doesn’t immediately launch into some tirade about how it’s an honor to work for my father. It’s the answer his meatheads usually provide.

Liam isn’t like my father’s usual meatheads, though.

I hate admitting it, but he’s different. He lacks the desperate energy most of the other men I’ve had the displeasure of meeting seem to carry, and he’s harder to bully.

Had any other man been tasked with grabbing and bringing me here, I’m confident I’d have convinced him to send me away by now. Most men don’t have the patience to deal with me for any extended period of time, and I understand why my dad chose Liam.

He’s too calm, and I have a feeling the annoying fucking stretching he does every morning is part of the reason why.

He uses that time to decompress, and I should begin to ruin it for him.

“I didn’t grow up thinking I’d end up doing the work I do, but it’s what I’m good at,” Liam answers.

I snort and set the cards down on the bed.

“Good at what? Killing people?”

Liam shoots me a pointed stare but doesn’t answer.

“How many people have you killed?” I pry. “Any children?”

Liam turns around, clearly trying to end our conversation, but he’s in for a rude awakening if he thinks I’m going to let this go.

“Do you enjoy killing children? I’m sure it makes you feel big and strong,” I taunt.

I don’t think Liam has killed any children. He’s a dick, but he doesn’t scream ‘child murderer’ like some of my dad’s other meatheads.

“Would you kill me if my father asked you to?”

I snap my jaw shut with a quiet click, regretting asking that. As much as I enjoy annoying Liam, I’d be dumb not to realize that he holds an advantage over me. Besides being easily twice my size, he has a duffel bag of weapons shoved underneath our bed.

I’ve never shot a gun before, let alone held one, and I wouldn’t know what to do if I had to defend myself.

Liam could turn around and kill me right now, and I’d be helpless to stop it.

What a pathetic fucking thought.

Liam sighs, and I hold his gaze as he makes his way toward me. He rolls his shoulders as he approaches, and I cross my arms over my chest in a sad attempt to hide my nerves.

What does he think he’s doing?

He pauses and crouches in front of me, and I look away when the actions evoke emotions I don’t want to deal with.

“Look at me, Katie,” he orders.

Since when have I ever listened to a damn thing he has to say?

I stare at the wall behind his head, avoiding eye contact. Even his use of my chosen nickname isn’t enough to sway me, and I debate attempting to bite his fingers when he grabs my chin and forces me to look into his eye.

“I am not going to hurt you.” He cups my cheeks and holds my head in place so I can’t look away. “And I’m not just saying that because your father ordered me to protect you. Nobody is going to lay a finger on you, okay? Not me, not anybody.”

Emotion chokes me, and I shove at Liam’s chest when my eyes grow damp. I don’t want him to see me cry, least of all over something as stupid as him promising not to fucking murder me.

How sad.

Liam brushes his thumbs over my cheekbones, capturing one of my tears, before leaning in and kissing my forehead.

“Don’t touch me, you brute,” I hiss.

He hardly looks offended as he releases my face and straightens back up. I wanted him to be offended by my rejection of his kindness, and I clear my throat and turn away as I struggle to get my emotions under control.

Who am I to be crying just because some man says he’s going to keep me safe?

That’s some fucking trauma I don’t have the patience to unpack, and I angrily wipe at my cheeks as Liam returns to the kitchen and begins making himself lunch.

“Make me some, too,” I demand.

“I already am.”

Things fall silent between us, and I busy myself by getting up and making the bed. I haven’t bothered with it before, but I have to admit the space feels much nicer when it’s done.

Liam chops vegetables while I fluff and toss the pillows on the bed, and I look around the room before grabbing a broom and sweeping.

“I didn’t know you could clean,” Liam says after a minute.

I ignore him.

I’m capable of many things, I just choose not to do them.

I yank open the front door and sweep all the dust outside. Cold air flies in and whips my hair around my face, but the cabin needs a good airing out so I don’t immediately shut it. This place reeks of sex, and I’d like any proof of Liam and my’s late-night mistake removed.

I’m habitually doing things I regret with him, and it’s getting ridiculous.

Soon he will start thinking I’ve got some feelings for him. Liam seems like the type of person to think everybody is in love with him. I’m sure he’s right most of the time, and if it weren’t for the fact that he kidnapped me and forced me into this shitty cabin, I’d think he’s a real charmer.

Women are probably all over him out in the real world.

“How many people have you had sex with?” I ask.

For the first time, Liam looks surprised. His eyes grow comically wide, and his hands freeze where they currently cut up tiny broccoli pieces. I’m happy to have caught him off guard.

He sets down his knife and looks at me, his eyebrows pulled tightly together.

“Why?”

I shrug.

“I was thinking of all the ways you could improve at sex, and I realized that most of your issues probably just stem from a lack of experience.”

I’m so fucking proud of myself for coming up with that at the drop of a hat.

Liam sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and I shut the front door and smile triumphantly as he picks up his knife and resumes cutting up our broccoli. There are two bowls set out with lettuce and other vegetables, and I assume he’s making us salads for lunch.

“I’m actually delighted you’ve brought this up…” Liam trails off as he grabs the chopped broccoli and tosses it in the bowls. “I was thinking the same thing about you, and I have some feedback if you’d like to hear it.”

I grind my teeth.

He’s only saying this because I tried to insult him, but I also have a huge problem of having no fucking self-control and needing to know precisely what he thinks I should be better at. I thought our sex was pretty fucking good, and I can’t imagine what he’d want me to do differently.

I bet he can’t even think of anything.

“What?” I hiss, desperate to know.

Liam does a poor job hiding his smirk, and I fucking hate it. I’m playing right into him, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. I’m too nosy, and he knows that.

“Well, while your body is quite responsive… you’re not. You do a lot of laying, and I think it would be good for you to take more action.” He pauses and gives me time to speak up, but I only gesture for him to continue.

I want to hear this.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. You tend to flop after you cum. It’s a compliment to know I’ve made you orgasm so hard, but fucking a limp doll is a bit of a mood killer,” he says.

I raise a brow. We both know he likes using me when I get satisfied and weak. I can tell by the way he fucks me harder and moans into my ear, and if he genuinely doesn’t like it, then that’s his issue to sort through.

“Is that all?” I ask.

Liam purses his lips. He’s annoyed by how well I’m taking his feedback.

“Yes.”

That’s surprising. I thought he’d have more to say.

He grabs a container of leftover chicken from the fridge and begins chopping it into bite-size pieces.

“What feedback do you have for me?” he asks.

I open my mouth, prepared to tear him apart, before changing my mind last minute. Liam’s not going to get upset by anything I say, and I want to torture him.

Instead, I clear my throat and look away. I’m still on the verge of tears from earlier, and I stare unblinking into the fire until they’re pooling down my cheeks.

“Katie?”

I suck in a dramatically shaky breath.

“Don’t call me that.” My voice is whiny, but it’s clear by the tone that I’m crying.

I gnaw at the inside of my cheek, needing the pain so I don’t laugh and blow my cover. Fuck Liam and his shitty fucking feedback. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and I’m sure he wouldn’t know good sex if it smacked him in the face.

I’m willing to bet the only women he’s been with have been paid to be with him, and I’m sure they go out of their way to make him feel like a big strong man. They probably spend the entire time telling him he’s the best they’ve ever had, and I’m sure they also fake at least six orgasms per session.

That’s likely what he’s familiar with.

It’s a shame I don’t provide those false services.

The knife hits the cutting board with a quiet thump, and a second later, Liam walks around the small island and approaches me from behind.

“Katie?” he asks again, his voice low.

I sniffle.

“Oh,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

Does he really need to ask that? The man just told me I’m a limp fish during sex. Why else would I be crying? Men are useless.

“I’m sorry I’m not as experienced as you,” I hiss, spitting the word experience with as much venom as I can muster. “I don’t spread my legs for everything with a pulse like you apparently do.”

The insult is weak, but that’s the point. I want him to think I’m so upset I can’t even think of a proper rebuttal.

Liam makes an odd noise in the back of his throat before grabbing my shoulders and spinning me around. I hug my arms to myself as I turn toward him, and I take so much fucking pleasure in watching his suspicion crumple.

He wasn’t expecting to see tears, but I’m thorough.

Just like before, Liam cups my cheeks and brushes them away. His eyes flicker over each tear, and he shifts his weight from foot to foot as he opens and shuts his mouth in a dramatic display.

He doesn’t know what to say.

Good.

Comfort me, Liam. Do it.

“I enjoy having sex with you, Katie,” he admits. “I stand by what I said about you taking more action, but I like when you get weak after you cum. It turns me on to see how good I make you feel, and I actively enjoy it when you grow pliant.”

I sniffle and look to the side.

“You don’t mean that,” I say.

Liam trails his fingers down my arms and grabs my left hand. His touch makes me shiver, and I do my best to look as pitiful as possible as he urges me to feel between his legs. He’s wearing the exercise shorts I think make his legs look dangerously good, and they do little to hide the giant bulge behind the material.

He’s hard, and I curl my fingers around his length with a sly smile.

“I’ve been with a decent number of women, but sex with you is some of the best I’ve had. I think we have incredible chemistry, and I don’t want you to change anything.”

Liam is a fool.

I give his cock a hard squeeze before letting go and meeting his eye.

“Yeah, of course you don’t, you fucking loser.”

Liam rears back, and I shove my pointer finger into the sensitive skin at the base of his throat. He gasps, moving to cover the area, but I push him aside and storm toward my salad. Liam doesn’t say anything, but I can just fucking picture him right now.

He’s probably staring at my back in shock—no, in horror—over the fact that I played him so thoroughly.

The giant brute looked so scared by the thought that he made me cry, and I hope he feels embarrassed by how desperately he tried to rectify the situation.

I know my sex is good, and if he has a problem with my style, he can find some other pussy to fuck.

Liam snatches the salad out of my hands, and I stifle a gasp as he dumps the contents into his bowl and begins eating. He’s pouting, and I glare at the side of his head for a long minute before ripping open the fridge to make my own salad.

I didn’t need him to make me one, anyway.

He probably poisoned it.

Chapter 15

I shove a piece of bland lettuce into my mouth, pissed as I eye Liam’s bowl.

The salads he made for us are way better than the replacement one I put together, and a small part of me is beginning to regret making him so upset he took mine away. I did my best to replicate it, but they’re clearly on different playing fields.

Liam does most of our cooking, and he’s surprisingly good at it.

I never would’ve guessed somebody like him would have any skills besides killing.

My lips purse as Liam paces the room, his stride long and even. I wonder what’s going through his head, but I have a feeling I’ve pissed him off too much to get any productive conversation out of him right now.

It was well worth it, though.

I hope he feels embarrassed by the way he tried to comfort me and how thoroughly I played him.

I used to hope he’d send me home if I made him angry enough—or at least release me into the wild. I’d like to say I’m fairly adaptable, and I imagine I could make do in whatever city he drops me off in.

My dream of being an artist has already been destroyed, so it’s not like I’ve got anything to return to.

Besides, it might be nice to get a fresh start.

After this, I’m done with my father. I want nothing to do with him, and I never want to speak to or hear about him again. I’ve tried cutting him out of my life before, obviously with no success, but I’ll see it through this time.

I’ll change my name and leave the city.

“What did David tell you about me?” I ask, breaking the silence.

Liam turns to look at me, his expression unreadable as his eyes slide up and down my figure. He takes his sweet time doing it, and I step behind the kitchen island to hide my body from his prying eyes.

His throat bobs as he swallows his mouthful of food, and I tap my fork impatiently against the side of my bowl as I wait for his answer.

“Your dad?” Liam asks.

I nod, and Liam shrugs.

“Not much. I didn’t find out you existed until just a few months before we met, and all he said was that you’re a product of an affair he had two decades ago,” he says, shoving a forkful of lettuce between his lips. “He did say you were nice, so he clearly doesn’t know you well.”

I cross my arms over my chest, not liking what he’s implying.

“I am nice,” I argue.

I truly am. I’m pretty pleasant to be around when I’m not being kidnapped and forced to live in some worn-down, dingy cabin with a strange man I’ve never met.

My mom raised me with manners, unlike some people in this room.

Liam shoots me a pointed look, and it speaks volumes. He doesn’t think I’m friendly, but I’m not offended. I’ve made no efforts to be kind to him, and I’ve actively been going out of my way to make him angry.

It’s his fault, and he brought my attitude upon himself when he kidnapped me and ruined my life.

“I don’t understand why David even cares to keep me safe,” I admit. “He’s a bare minimum father, and I know his wife loathes my very existence. I’m sure he wouldn’t even care if I was dead, and I don’t see the point of all this.”

Liam cocks his head to the side, and I don’t like to look of pity that flickers across his face before he levels his expression out once more.

“David isn’t exactly a nurturing man…” He trails off as he sets his half-eaten salad on the island and invades my personal space. I move back, not wanting the closeness, but Liam continues forward until I’m pinned against the counter. “But you’re still his daughter, and he loves you. He told me all about you one night, about how you’re an artist and headstrong and full of life.”

I hold my breath, not liking the emotions that hearing that is provoking within me.

Liam lifts his hand and brushes my hair out of my face, his touch soft. Too soft.

As much as I like to think of myself as a badass bitch, I know my limits. Men who comfort me and whisper nice things into my ear are my weakness, and I won’t let Liam become mine.

“Where do you live?” I ask.

Liam knows where I live, but I’ve never bothered to ask about him. He seems to be a pretty private person, and despite us spending every minute together for the past few weeks, I don’t know anything about him.

Meanwhile, he seems to know everything about me.

It’s not fair.

Liam sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and I can tell he’s debating whether or not he wants to answer me. I don’t see why not. It’s not like I’d ever try to visit him at home. Once my father gives him the go-ahead to let me go, I hope never to encounter Liam again.

He could be abducted by aliens and vanish into thin air for all I care.

“I have a place in the city,” Liam eventually admits.

No, duh.

“Where in the city? Do you own it or rent it?” I pry.

Liam raises a brow, and I clear my throat as I suddenly become aware of just how close we are. He still hasn’t moved away from me, and I remain pinned between his body and the kitchen counter. A small part of me I refuse to acknowledge likes it, a fact I’m greatly ashamed of.

My body doesn’t seem to get the memo that we hate Liam.

“Well?” I prompt when he doesn’t answer.

Liam’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and I follow the action before forcing myself to look back into his eyes. I’d hate for him to see me looking at his lips and think I want him to kiss me.

I’ve never felt his lips on mine, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Especially because I’m sure he’s a lousy kisser. He’s probably all tongue and teeth, and I bet he’s also one of those people who exhales their hot breath straight into your throat.

He seems inconsiderate like that.

“In Brooklyn. Yes, I own it,” Liam answers.

Oh? Is he feeling chatty this morning?

“How much did it cost?” I ask.

Liam’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t seem upset by my personal questions. Under normal circumstances, I’d never ask somebody how much they paid for their house, but I don’t feel the need to be polite around Liam.

He sure isn’t when it comes to me.

Liam slides his thumbs across my cheekbones before answering my question.

“A little over three million,” he says.

I gulp. That’s an expensive place. I’d ask what he does for my father that he gets paid so well, but I’m well aware he wouldn’t answer me. Besides, I’m not even sure if I’d want to know. It’s no secret that my dad isn’t a stand-up guy, and his business practices don’t scream ‘ethics.’

I look over Liam’s face, glancing at his thick eyebrows and bright gray eyes. He’s significantly taller than me, a fact that’s hard to ignore when we’re standing so close to one another.

His height makes me want to go up on my toes, but I fight the urge. He’d no doubt laugh at me.

“Are you in a relationship?” I ask.

I think I’ll puke if he says yes, and my chest grows tight as I realize the possibility that I might have been having sex with a married man.

I’ve been cheated on before, and I would never willingly put another woman through that pain. Adrien made me feel like I was crazy, like I was imagining things despite the evidence being right in front of me the entire time.

I hated it, and I was miserable for the entire long year we were together.

Liam takes too long to answer, and my pulse races when he glances to the side. Why isn’t he answering?

Fuck.

I am the other woman. That’s probably why my dad chose him to bring me here. I bet Liam’s married with children, and my dad thought those two items would ensure nothing intimate happens between us.

My dad should know better than anybody that men aren’t loyal.

The knife Liam used to cut up the chicken for his salad sits on the counter to my right, and my fingers twitch to grab it. I’d never try to kill Liam, but a little stab to the groin region would be a fitting punishment for him being a cheating whore.

“I’m single.”

Liam’s words are curt, and I struggle to believe them.

“Why did you take so long to answer?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you the truth.”

“Did you?”

Why is he being so fucking confusing? There’s no reason for it, and it’s a bit overkill. I understand Liam enjoys keeping his ‘ominous brooding man’ aesthetic, but it’s getting a bit old. It can maybe be seen as attractive to some people, but to me, it just makes him seem boring and inhuman.

“I did,” he admits. “My fiancé died nine months ago, and I typically lie about my relationship status to keep women from approaching me.”

Well, I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting to hear that.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, the words instinctual.

Silence stretches between us, and to say it’s uncomfortable would be the understatement of the century. I want to know how she died and if it had anything to do with what Liam does for a living, but I don’t ask.

I enjoy annoying Liam and prying into his life, but even I understand that would be too far.

“How long have you been working for my father?” I ask, changing the subject.

Liam frowns. “Eight years.”

That’s a long time.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

I suck in a slow breath, not wanting to do the math. Liam’s been working for my dad since he was twenty-one, practically still a child. No wonder he’s got no personality. He was never given the time to create one.

A small part of me feels bad for him, but I refuse to let it show.

I’ll be damned if I start to feel pity for my kidnapper.

“What would you do if my dad called you right now and told you to kill me?”

Liam blinks, and he works his jaw side to side before reaching forward and cupping my cheeks.

I know I asked him this before, and I’m fully aware that repeating it only shows how insecure and scared I am of this happening, but I do it anyway. My dad’s gone to extreme lengths to keep me safe, but I know he doesn’t love me.

He feels an obligation toward me because we share the same blood, but that’s all it is.

I know, without a doubt, that if things grew too complicated for him, he’d kill me to save himself. Fuck, I’m pretty sure he’d do it if his wife threw a big enough fit.

He’s always gone out of his way to keep our relationship a secret, and it’s not like anybody he works with would ever question why he wants a young girl to be killed. Having Liam do it would be the easiest option since we’re already together.

Liam’s the only one who knows about me, and I know he’s killed before.

He’s never outright admitted to it, but I know.

“I wouldn’t do it,” Liam says. “I’m here to protect you, Katie, and I intend to do just that.”

That’s not a real answer.

“But what would you do?” I urge. He keeps telling me what he wouldn’t do, but I want to know what he would do.

Liam sighs and pinches at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know. It’s such an unrealistic question,” he huffs. “I suppose we’d be faking your death and sticking you somewhere where David would never find you.”

Unable to keep fighting the urge, I lift up on my toes. I don’t like being forced to look up at Liam like this. It makes me feel small and weak, and those are two things I don’t want to feel when I’m talking about my hypothetical death.

Liam raises a brow, his hands sliding to my hips before he lifts and sets me on the counter. I try not to notice how easy it is for him to pick me up, and I straighten my spine when his action puts us at eye level.

Much better.

“Would you stay with me to keep me safe?” I ask.

Liam shakes his head. “Me disappearing would only draw suspicion.”

“But you just said you’d protect me.” I cross my arms over my chest, slightly hurt he’d even consider leaving me.

That’s not very ‘protector’ of him.

I’m not sure what’s going on in Liam’s head, but I don’t like how he’s looking at me as he cocks his head to the side. A sly smile spreads across his lips a second later, and I sure as fuck don’t like that, either.

“Is the princess scared I’ll leave her?” he teases.

I snap my jaw shut and shove at his chest as my face warms. This isn’t a laughing matter.

“Do you want me to say I’d run away with you?” Liam continues, his voice taking on a taunting tone. “That I’d throw away my life and leave with nothing more than you and the cash I’ve got in my wallet?”

My fingers twitch toward the knife on the counter as he cups my chin and forces me to look him in the eye.

“Do you want me to say I’d build a house for us in the woods and fuck three little kids into you?” Liam’s fingers dig into my cheeks, and he uses a free hand to flick a strand of hair out of my eye. “That you’d teach them how to garden and paint, and I’d teach them how to build and cook? That every night you’d fall asleep in my arms, comfy and cozy and oh, so safe?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting those things in life, and I hate how he makes a domestic partnership sound so horrible.

“That’s exactly what I want you to say, Liam,” I say, forcing a sickly sweet smile onto my lips. “I want us to run away together and live happily ever after.”

I reach forward and trail my finger down his neck.

“Isn’t that what you want too, baby?”

Liam licks his lips, looking mildly frightened. He can dish it out, but he can’t take it. It was stupid for him to start something he didn’t want to see through. If he wants to hear fantasies, I can give him fantasies.

I’ll give him fantasies until he’s puking them back up.

“Don’t you want to marry me, pick out a beautiful diamond and slip it on my finger while confessing your undying love? Don’t you want to hold our newborn baby in your arms and kiss their chubby cheeks and stubby little fingers?” I coo.

Liam’s eyes narrow slightly before a breathtaking smile spreads across his lips.

“Then it’s settled. We’ve got our plan sorted away for when your dad demands I kill you,” he decides, releasing my face.

I’m sure my cheeks are beet red right now, and I pray he doesn’t comment on it.

Needing some space, I shove at his chest until he steps away. He does so quickly, and I jump down from the counter before walking to the front door and slipping on my shoes. It’s cold today, so I also put on Liam’s jacket.

“I’m going for a walk,” I decide.

Liam makes an odd noise in the back of his throat.

“Don’t get lost.”

Because getting lost in the cold wilderness is definitely something I’d purposefully do. I roll my eyes and rip open the front door, still half expecting Liam to try and stop me. When he doesn’t, I step outside and make my way to the tiny berry patch I know lives to the right of the cabin.

Liam has me on edge, and while our words and arguments are as cutting as ever, the soft touches tell a different story. I shouldn’t let him cup my face and touch me so intimately, and the next time he does it, I’m going to knee him right in the balls.