Page 16 of Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)

  He knew the second she climaxed, so he moved up her body and kissed her hungrily as he thrust into her. She was wet, hot, and ready for him, and damn, she was tight. Once he was fully embedded, he forced himself to stop and give her time to adjust to him.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her nails dug into his shoulders. She could already feel the pressure building. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please don’t stop.” She wasn’t sure if she shouted the demand or whispered it.

  Liam would have laughed if he hadn’t been in such agony. “Not a chance,” he said. “I won’t stop.”

  He loved the feel of her squeezing him, slowly withdrawing and then thrusting again and again, faster and faster. He kept telling himself to slow down, to savor the moment, but his body wasn’t cooperating. Neither was she. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, taking him deeper inside, and then she began to moan.

  He knew she was close. His hand moved down between their bodies, and he caressed the spot he knew would drive her wild. She cried out, tightened around him, and climaxed again. He was there with her and found his own release.

  Allison felt as though she had reached the stars and was floating back to earth. It was the most amazing thing. Frightening, too, for she had lost all control. She realized then she had trusted him completely and was shocked how quickly that had happened. She was still holding on to him and never wanted to let go. As soon as the truth registered in her mind, she forced herself to pull back. Her arms fell to her sides. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, and she was still panting, trying to recover.

  Liam was having difficulty accepting what had just happened to him. He had had God knew how many orgasms but never one like this. As soon as she let go of him, he kissed her gently on the lips, then rolled away, got up, and went into the bathroom. He wasn’t gone long. Allison was swinging her legs over the side of the bed and just about to stand when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down on top of him.

  “Now you can be on top,” he said, grinning.

  She stacked her hands on his chest, rested her chin on them, and stared at his handsome face. It seemed strange to her that she wasn’t feeling at all unsure of herself or vulnerable now, and she didn’t need praise or words of affection from him. He was rubbing her back and it felt wonderful. She was having trouble believing that she was stark naked and lying on top of a naked man. Not just any man, though, but Liam, who she decided was built like a Greek god, and at the moment was just about the sexiest man in the world. He was just so . . . male.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, brushing a dangling strand of hair from her forehead.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” she said.

  “Yeah?” His hands moved down her spine, and he said, “You’ve got a great ass.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Only you would notice my backside.”

  “Every man you walk past notices, sweetheart.”

  She laughed. “You can’t possibly know that.”

  His devilish smile was back. “Sure, I can. We discussed it. Everyone agreed. You’ve got a great ass.”

  His hand moved to the back of her neck, and he pulled her down to kiss her. His mouth covered hers, and his tongue moved inside to stroke her. “I love the way you taste,” he whispered before kissing her again.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. He was already hard and all he wanted was to make love to her again.

  “Do you want to . . . ?” He stopped himself before he asked her if she wanted to go again, realizing that probably wasn’t the right way to put it.

  She understood. “Oh yes, I do,” she whispered. She kissed the soft skin under his ear, then teased his earlobe with her teeth. He tightened his hold on her, which told her he liked what she was doing, and that made her bolder. She moved lower, nudging his hands away so she could kiss his chest, then lower until she was kissing his belly button. The description rock-hard abs didn’t do him justice. Her long, silky hair brushed over his skin. When she tried to move lower between his thighs, he pulled her back up, shook his head, and said, “If you do that, I won’t last.”

  “But I’ve never . . . and I wanted to try . . .”

  He rolled her onto her back. It was a revelation that she wanted him so quickly after finding satisfaction, and to want him so desperately she was almost frantic with desire. Their lovemaking was wild, uncontrolled, and earth-shattering. She had never had an orgasm before Liam, and now she’d had three. She was spent.

  Liam fell back on the bed beside her, and they both stared at the ceiling for several minutes as they tried to catch their breath. When he had summoned enough strength, Liam went into the bathroom, and this time when he returned he began to get dressed. Suddenly feeling vulnerable now, she grabbed her robe and put it on. She tied the belt and sat against the headboard, watching him. Her hair hung down over one side of her face. She impatiently brushed it back over her shoulder while she waited for him to say something to her.

  “I should get going,” he said as he sat on the side of the bed and reached for his loafers.

  By the time he was buttoning his shirt and putting on his holster, she had made the no-brainer assumption that he wanted to leave. In fact, it seemed he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  She went into the galley kitchen and got a bottled water out of the refrigerator. It took her three tries to get the cap twisted off, her hands were shaking so. The aftermath of sex, she surmised. Her legs were shaking, too.

  Liam walked in just as she was turning, and she bumped into his chest. She offered him the water. He took a long swallow and then put it on the counter and pulled her into his arms.

  “I’ve got to go,” he whispered against her ear.

  “I know.”

  “You’ll get to sleep in tomorrow, and you don’t start your six months with Phillips until Monday. I’d make the most of the time off if I were you.”

  “Come Monday, heaven help me. Right?”

  He smiled. “Right.”

  Although she wanted to, she didn’t ask him what he would be doing. The search she had done at the cyber unit had given him the proof he needed, but Liam still had work to do. She expected he would track down the culprit who had leaked the information, interrogate him, and then lock him up. Her usefulness to the case was over.

  Liam let go of her and stepped back. He reached for the bottle and took another drink as he leaned against the counter and stared down at the floor. It appeared that he was studying the tiles. A few minutes before, she had been convinced he was ready to bolt out of there, but now he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. When Allison leaned closer and studied his face, she could tell from the deep furrow in his brow that he was mulling over something important. She presumed it had to do with his work.

  “Have you told Alec what I found?” she asked.

  “Yes. When do you graduate?”

  The jump in subjects surprised her and made her pause a second before answering, “One month.”

  He nodded. “What about your aunt and uncle? When are you going to talk to them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They aren’t going to give up.”

  “I know.”

  He put his arm around her and walked by her side to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he said, “I want to be there if you do confront them.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to.”

  “I can handle them. I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me.”

  “I just want to see them in action,” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

  She shook her head. “I’ll film it for you.”

  He laughed, kissed her, and then left.

  She locked the door behind him and leaned against it. She didn’t quite know what she had expected, but it certainly wasn’t that he would leave without so much as a “th

ank you” or a “that was great” or even a “have a nice day.” She had to remind herself that they had made an agreement. No commitments, no complications. So the fact that he left so quickly after their lovemaking wasn’t awkward at all.

  Just a little heartbreaking.

  FOURTEEN

  A little too late she realized casual sex or a hookup or a one-nighter or whatever else it was called was more complicated than she had imagined. Maybe she just wasn’t the type for that nonsense. She would much rather write code than have sex anyway.

  Even she couldn’t buy that lie. Sex with Liam had been mind-blowing. So how come she was feeling miserable now? Was it because she was too emotionally involved?

  Duh! Of course it was. She guessed she wasn’t a very modern woman, after all. To say she was conflicted was an understatement. What was the matter with her? She didn’t want or need a commitment from Liam. Maybe she just wanted the sex to have meant something to him and for him to tell her so. Obviously for him it had just been a couple of enjoyable hours getting rid of tension. He had probably already moved on.

  She didn’t get to sleep until almost two in the morning, but by then she had figured it all out. Liam had been an impulsive distraction from her goals, and she couldn’t allow that to happen again. She had too many other things to concentrate on. When she wasn’t working at the cyber unit, she wanted to focus on the program she had built—there was still a bit of tweaking that needed to be done. She couldn’t let Liam mess with her head, and the only way to accomplish that was to stay away from him. Thank goodness he was going to make it easy for her. He was probably getting ready to get on a plane to God knew where even then.

  She slept until ten, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and sat cross-legged on the sofa with her laptop to catch up on her e-mails. It had been well over a week since she’d last checked them.

  Scrolling through the dozens of messages, some requiring responses, others nuisance promotions to be deleted, she found two reminders that Father Basher was being honored tonight for his service to the university at a cocktail party given by some of the alumni at the Hamilton Hotel. Only seniors, staff members, and a few close friends of the Jesuit professor were invited. There was also an invitation to a reception for him next week so that everyone at the college could say good-bye to him, and though attendance for both events wasn’t mandatory, it was strongly encouraged that everyone attend. She made a note in her calendar about the second event. One simply didn’t ignore the Jesuits. Besides, everyone admired Father Basher. He was one of the best in his field, and she hated to see him retire. He had taught her to love the Renaissance painters. After taking a required course from him, she had signed up to take another as an elective but had to wait three semesters for an opening. He was going to be sorely missed at the university, and she was happy to see he was being given the recognition he deserved.

  At twelve o’clock Charlotte called. “Sorry I didn’t phone any sooner,” she began.

  “Why are you sorry? I didn’t expect you to call.”

  A long, drawn-out sigh let Allison know how frustrated her sister was. “You didn’t read your e-mails, did you?”

  “I was just checking them now. It’s been a busy week.”

  “You’re always on your laptop. How could you not look at your e-mails?”

  Allison set her computer aside as she listened to her sister’s complaints. When she unfolded her legs, an aching twinge shot down to her feet and she realized she had been sitting too long in one spot. She got up and stretched before heading to the kitchen. Charlotte was getting testy and obviously needed to vent. Allison let her.

  She finally interrupted her sister’s lecture on communication. “What’s going on with you? Why are you so hyper?” she asked as she rummaged through her cabinets for a snack.

  “I’m in Boston.”

  “What? You’re here? What are you doing in Boston?”

  “I know I told you that Oliver was attending a conference here. Don’t you remember?”

  No, she didn’t remember, but she wasn’t going to admit it and listen to another lecture. “Sure, I do,” she said instead. She found a potato chip bag with a few crumbs in the bottom and emptied them into her mouth before scrunching the bag and tossing it into the trash.

  “At the last minute I got the time off and decided to come with him. Aren’t you happy I’m here?”

  “Of course I am. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I’ve missed you,” she said, and she meant it. “Do you and Oliver want to stay with me? I’ll take the sofa and you two can have my bed.”

  “No, thanks,” Charlotte answered. “The law firm is putting us up at the Four Seasons. It’s very fancy.”

  “I’ll stay with you, then,” Allison said, laughing.

  “You know you could.”

  “I’m just teasing.”

  “You don’t mind that we aren’t staying with you, do you?”

  “I’m relieved. I’d have to go to the grocery store and change my sheets.” She opened the refrigerator door, peered inside, and moved the water bottles out of the way in search of something more substantial. She found a blueberry yogurt cup in the back and reached for it, checking the expiration date before opening the drawer for a spoon.

  “You’d also have to close your laptop and try to talk to us,” Charlotte said.

  “When will I see you?” Allison asked, ignoring the barb about her social skills.

  “Hopefully, tonight. I made dinner reservations at our hotel for eight o’clock.”

  “How do you know I don’t have plans?”

  “I just assumed you wouldn’t be going out. How long has it been since you’ve had a date?”

  “We’re getting off topic here.”

  “You just don’t want to answer the question.”

  “I haven’t had any real dates . . . or at least what you’d call a date,” she said in all honesty. She wondered what Charlotte would do if she told her about the sex with Liam. She’d probably applaud, Allison concluded.

  “That’s a pity,” Charlotte consoled.

  Allison laughed. “It kinda is. I’m really happy you’re here,” she blurted. “When do you have to go back to Seattle?”

  “Tuesday,” she answered.

  “About tonight . . .”

  “Yes?”

  She tucked her cell phone in the crook of her neck and opened the yogurt container, then swallowed a spoonful before answering, “I have to attend a cocktail party for one of my professors. It’s at the Hamilton,” she added. “It starts at six thirty and I’ll probably be there until eight.”

  “Okay, I’ll move our reservation back to eight thirty,” Charlotte said. “The Hamilton Hotel is just around the corner from the Four Seasons. It won’t take you any time at all to get here.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come to my apartment? We’ll order pizza.”

  “No, every time we get together we eat pizza. Getting dressed up and dining out will be fun. You’ll have to be dressed for the cocktail party anyway. Are you going to wear makeup? Do you have any? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing lipstick or mascara in real life.”

  That was probably true, even though Charlotte had seen the pictures from Giovanni’s photo shoots. “Yes, I have makeup, and yes, I’ll wear makeup.”

  “It’s going to be fun.” Charlotte sounded so giddy she practically giggled her response.

  Allison smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

  “More than you.”

  “I want to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “I hate to ruin your good mood, but have you heard from Aunt Jane or Uncle Russell?”

  “No, not since Oliver and I cut them out of our lives. You should have done the same a long time ago.”

  “You’re right,” A

llison agreed. She rinsed the spoon under the faucet and dropped it in the dishwasher. “I finally severed connections, but they keep harassing me. It’s awful.”

  “We’ll talk about it tonight. Oliver and I have something to tell you, and we don’t think you’re going to like it. I’ve got to go—”

  “Oh no, you don’t. You can’t say something like that and not tell me now.”

  “It has to be face-to-face.”

  “That means it’s bad, right? I’m right, aren’t I? Are you and Oliver having problems? You’re not thinking of divorce, are you? Charlotte, you’re never going to find anyone as sweet and patient as he is. Have you tried marriage counseling?” Her imagination was getting away from her. “He’s perfect for you, and he’s—”

  Charlotte cut her off. “No, dummy, we aren’t getting divorced.”

  “Okay, good,” Allison said with a sigh of relief. “So now I have to think you’re going to try to talk me out of something or into something. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “See you tonight.”

  Charlotte disconnected the call before Allison could coax her into explaining.

  Allison absolutely refused to worry about what Charlotte and Oliver wanted to talk to her about, so she did exactly that the rest of the day. She came up with all sorts of horrible things, and by the time she had showered, curled her hair, and applied makeup, she decided either Charlotte or Oliver was dying, or they were moving to some remote country and she would never see them again. She realized how mental she was acting, but she told herself she was just a worrier and not out of her mind.

  Time was getting away from her. She needed to hurry if she was going to make it to Father Basher’s party on time. She opened her closet door and studied her clothes. Creating outfits was not one of her strengths, but luckily Giovanni had been a good teacher and she channeled his expertise now. She decided to wear one of her favorites, a short fitted dress the color of deep burgundy wine. The sleeves came to her elbows, and the hem of the rather tight skirt didn’t quite reach her knees. The slit up one side, though provocative, was necessary so she could walk, but the scoop neckline was modest with only a hint of cleavage. Small hoop earrings and her delicate gold watch, a gift from Charlotte and Oliver, were her only accessories. She tried on two different pairs of heeled sandals before choosing. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she surveyed her reflection and decided Giovanni would have approved.