Tempted: A Bad Boy Next Door Romance Page 9

  “Oh Nat,” I say and laugh. “Leave it to you to say something like that.”

  “Seriously, Lizzie, you’re overthinking this way too much. Do you really like this guy?”

  “I do... well, at least I think I do.”

  “Hmm. Well let me ask you this--do you like the way he makes you feel?”

  I think about the sweet side of Liam, how much of a gentleman he was on our date. How fun he was, back at his place. “Yes,” I say finally. “I really do. He makes me feel... good.”

  “Okay then. Just have fun with it. No matter what happens. Just have fun.”

  The way Nat says it makes it seem so easy.

  Maybe it is that easy, I think. If I just give it a chance. Besides, I have time. I don’t have to leave here to go back to school for almost two months.

  But what would happen after those two months? I feel a twinge of pain in my heart at the thought of leaving.

  After a second, I push those thoughts away. I need to stop worrying and just let things happen. It’s not like I’m in a committed relationship with Liam. For all I know, we’re not meant to be anything more than fuckbuddies.

  Maybe he’s just in my life to provide me with a distraction to my grief, and that’s it.

  “What harm can it do?” Nat presses. “It’s just a little fun.”

  I decide I’m going to heed Nat’s advice. After all, what harm could it do?

  I smile and finally reply, “I can do fun.”

  Chapter 11

  Liam

  “Where were you last night?” Zac’s on me as soon as I walk in the office.

  I sigh heavily and walk right past him, answering, “What’s it matter?” I went out and saw my Elle last night. Just a movie date. No sex, nothing. Just the two of us cuddling on the sofa and watching Up. It’s a stupid kids’ movie. But she picked it out. She said it was sweet. She cried in the beginning a little, and I wondered why she’d pick something that would do that to her, knowing how the beginning starts. But I think I know why. And it made me happy to hold her and be there for her.

  I’m really starting to like this broad. A week later, and I'm still interested in just being around her. It’s different for me. But then again, recently a lot of things have been different. Starting with her old man.

  “You're just gonna keep running back to the 'burbs to get laid, is that it?” Zac asks me with contempt. I don't like the way he's talking. I give him a hard look and he settles down a bit.

  “What the fuck is up your ass?” I snap back at him as I take a seat in my chair.

  “We got a threat last night.” My jaw clenches. I fucking hate some of the assholes we do business with. I look up at my brother and wait for more.

  “From Ian?” I ask him. He wouldn’t be the first. It’s common for guys who place bets they can’t afford to threaten us later, rather than pay up. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. It’s useless for them to do it. We always have collateral, and we always get paid. We’d be stupid to take a bet that can’t be repaid. That’s why we look into our clients. So those threats get muted pretty fucking fast.

  But for Zac to be this pissed and this worked up, it’s gotta be Ian’s doing. He nods his head, confirming it. I run my hands through my hair. Fucking hell. My first thought is that I don't wanna deal with this shit. I'd rather be back with Elle, holding on to her and kissing up her neck. I might be warming up to her, but she's heating up for me, too.

  Zac clears his throat and gets my attention again.

  “Why the fuck is he bothering us now?” This fucking asshole needs to get out of our business. I’m done with him. He’s a fucking nobody.

  “He didn’t like that we were giving him a bad name.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? His name doesn’t come out of our mouths.”

  “A couple of the guys were pissed they had to pay up front and asked why,” he replies.

  I give my brother a hard glare. “And what’d you tell them?”

  “It wasn’t me,” he answers defensively.

  “Fucking Tyler.” Why’s there always gotta be something? “We shoulda just cut those clients.”

  “Some of the high rollers come from Ian, too.”

  “Yeah,” I say and let the anger slip away easily; my brother’s got a point, and there’s no point in thinking that way. “What’s the threat?”

  “That he’s gonna ‘gut us like the fucking pigs we are and bleed us out’.”

  “What a fucking prick.” The threat doesn’t even faze me. I’ve heard worse from more capable people.

  Zac pulls out his phone and shows me a video of fat fuck named Gino Stalone shoving a note into the mailbox we have around back. I recognize him. He’s one of the assholes that tried to work me over when they first heard about us. He’s still walking with a limp because of me. He should’ve done a better job. Instead he came at me with a punch and took a bullet to the kneecap for his troubles.

  “You know that saying, don’t shoot the messenger?” Zac asks me.

  I grin at him as he adds, “I told Tyler it was a shit saying.”

  “So he’s taking care of it?” I ask Zac, just to make sure we’re on the same page.

  “Yeah, Ian should get the message loud and clear tonight.” I don't like that it's coming to violence. But some things are only resolved this way.

  “Good.” I sit back in my chair, but I'm tense knowing a war is coming. I’m not backing down. My eyes fall to my desk and I see a manila envelope. My heart races in my chest with a hint of anger.

  “What the fuck is this?” I ask.

  Zac looks at it with a frown and then recognition crosses his face. “It came from some lawyer. He said you were expecting it.”

  I nod my head and try to calm the fuck down. Not everything is a threat. It’s a note from Richard. When I called to tell the lawyer to do whatever paperwork had to be done to transfer it all to Elle he told me about it. I left the reading before he could give it to me.

  I slowly pick up the envelope and consider opening it. I see Zac stand from the corner of my eye.

  “We good?” he asks.

  “Yeah, it’s all good.” He watches me for a moment and then glances to the envelope. “He said it was from that old man.”

  “Yeah,” I say, and my chest tightens with pain. We don’t show emotion much. Well, except for anger. That’s one we see a lot. But for him to be checking on me like this, it’s unusual.

  “It’s all good,” I repeat, and my brother nods and makes his way to the door.

  Before closing it he asks, “Is she good, too?” It catches me off guard. A part of me relaxes though. I like that he's asking about her.

  I stare him in the eyes for a moment, considering what he’s asking. “She’s doing okay. She’s working through it.” It's gonna take time for sure. But she's doing good I think.

  He nods his head and looks at the floor before taking in a deep breath. “If you need anything, let me know.” With that, he leaves.

  I’m lucky to have my brother. Poor Elle doesn’t even have that. I don’t know how I survived my father’s death, but it definitely had something to do with the people who surrounded me. And she has no one. Except me. And I’m basically using her for my own selfish needs.

  I feel like a fucking asshole for thinking it, but it’s true. I’m using that poor girl to make myself feel better. I throw the envelope down on the desk and cover my face with my hands. I’m a fucking bastard for it. She's clinging to me to help her get over her father's death. And I'm just counting the days until I can get her underneath me. I'm such a fucking prick.

  She’s a good girl; she didn’t even wanna fuck. She has morals and virtue. And here I am sifting through fucking threats and making sure pricks get what they deserve.

  I’ve been working my ass off to make the operation legit and avoid this kind of shit, but it keeps coming back to me.

  The image of Gino or Ian or any of those assholes coming up to me while I’m with
her, or shit even while I'm next door to her, makes my blood boil. I’ll kill them all before they touch her.

  My heart beats faster, and my gut twists with pain. I should leave her now, before anything gets out of hand. Who am I kidding though, it’s already out of hand. If they knew about her… my throat closes with worry. I know they're going to come after us. I can't give them an easy target. I can't let her get caught up in this shit.

  I know I should end it with her today. I’m not good enough for her. I never will be.

  I need to let her go. She's doing better. She'll be fine without me. Fuck, I don’t want to. I haven’t wanted anything in so long. I run my hands in my hair, not knowing what I should do. I’d be a selfish prick to keep her.

  I already know that. I never should have chased her. My heart clenches in my chest. She’s got a life, she’s got schooling to go back to so she can have a real career. She’ll be alright without me. She’ll be better without me.

  I've been living in a fantasy world with her, and this is my reality. I need to wake the fuck up before I get her hurt. Or worse.

  I look down at the envelope on the desk. Maybe Richard left it all to me so we could meet. Or maybe he thought he truly owed it to me. I snort and refuse to look at it.

  The reason doesn’t matter. He was a fucking asshole for doing that. For teasing me with a woman I never stood a chance at being good enough for.

  I take a deep breath and pick up my phone. I do the right thing before I can stop myself. I type in the message and send it. It fucking shreds me.

  Chapter 12

  Lizzie

  I'm sorry. It’s over - L.

  I stare at the text blankly, feeling a lump form in my throat. The words repeat over and over in my mind as I sit on the couch. It’s over. I shake my head. I can’t wrap my mind around this. Didn’t Liam claim that he wanted to get to know the real me? And now he’s breaking it off? I thought everything was going great. Like better than great. It was perfect. I thought we were perfect together. I feel blindsided. I didn't have a clue that he felt differently.

  I tear my eyes away from the text, anger threatening to overwhelm me.

  He’s breaking up with me because he’s mad I didn’t have sex with him.

  Or maybe it was because I still haven't gotten him off? In a way, I feel bad that I didn’t. He made me feel incredible. Gave me a mind-blowing orgasm. I actually feel guilty over it, which is bullshit considering how I offered to… take care of it. But that was over a week ago!

  And now he’s breaking up with me. Fucking asshole.

  There’s no use going over the shoulda coulda wouldas, I think to myself. If Liam really cared about me and wanted to get to know me like he claims, he wouldn’t break up with me over something so trivial. He said he’d be there when I was ready. More bullshit.

  The more I think about this, the angrier I get. He had no right to do this. Come into my life. Get me addicted to him... and then just leave.

  Fuck this! I rage. I’m going over there right now to give that bastard a piece of my mind.

  I've been thinking about it all day. I know he's there. His shiny car is right there in the fucking driveway, taunting me.

  You know what? I'm doing it. What do I have to lose? Nothing. Nothing to fucking lose.

  I march outside and walk next door. Instead of using the doorbell, I ball a fist and pound on the door as hard as I can. It hurts my knuckles, and the cold weather doesn’t help. It’s only then that I realize I’m in my thin nightgown and it’s freezing out here.

  As the realization hits me, Liam yanks open the door.

  My breath leaves my lungs at the sight of him. He has no shirt on, his chiseled abs proudly on display, and he's only wearing a pair of basketball shorts. Shorts that show off his huge cock imprint. I whip my eyes back up to his and ignore my need to look back down.

  At first Liam looks shocked, and then hurt. He’s quick to cover it with anger though. “Didn’t I tell you last time that there was a doorbell?” he growls.

  I haughtily reply, “I didn’t feel like using it.”

  Liam responds with a tight voice. “I can see that.” Why is he so pissed? He has no right to be pissed.

  “It’s over?” I demand. “It’s over?”

  Liam doesn’t reply and just looks at me stoically. God, it fucking hurts. It feels like my heart is just splitting in two. Am I really that big of a fool?

  I do my best to hold back the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. “Hello?” I persist. I hate how my voice is about to crack. How I feel like bursting in tears and collapsing in his arms.

  Liam scowls, making me feel even worse. “Look, what do you want from me?” he growls. “You got your fucking house. You should be happy to be rid of me. After all, I’m a fucking dirtbag asshole.”

  “That’s not true--”

  “Those words came from you,” he says.

  It hurts because I did say that, but I apologized and it was so long ago. At least it feels like it was long ago. “I called you those names in a moment of weakness.” I try to defend myself, but he just crosses his arms in front of him. His entire stance is aggressive and standoffish, but his eyes are pained. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know how to fix this. I didn’t mean it when I called him that. He has to know that.

  “I’m sorry.” He just stands there still, waiting for me to leave.

  “Is that why you don’t want me?” I practically whisper. My anger is nonexistent now. Instead I'm just heartbroken.

  His hard features soften, and he looks apologetic for a moment. He takes in a deep breath and says, “I’m not good for you. You already know that. You don’t want me.” He shakes his head slightly and looks at me with sympathy. It only makes me angrier.

  “I can decide what I want for myself!” My body starts to shiver, and I look back to my house and then past him into his living room. It’s so fucking cold.

  “Go home, Elizabeth.”

  He begins to shut the door, but I wedge my foot into the opening before he can close it. I’m lucky he didn’t slam it. I would’ve lost my whole fucking foot.

  “If you wanted me to suck your dick, then you should’ve just let me!” I scream at him out of anger.

  “Do you think that’s what this is about?” he asks me, and suddenly I feel sick. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and my heart clenches in my chest.

  He takes a step closer. “You think I don’t want you 'cause you didn’t suck me off?” He looks at me incredulously.

  “I wanted to! I wanted to fuck you, too! I was just scared!” After screaming at him and taking several deep breaths, I finally register what he asked. “It has to be that,” I insist. He doesn’t respond, he just looks back at me with a look of disbelief. “I can’t think of any other reason...” My voice trails off. God, I feel like an idiot. My insecurities run rampant.

  “You deserve better than me.” He tries to back away again, and it pisses me off. The whole 'it’s me, not you' routine? Yeah, whatever. He can shove that excuse up his ass.

  “You’re not running away from me that easy!” I snap. “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong or so help me God--”

  “Or what?” Liam says with a menacing threat. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Anger swells within my chest. I grasp at that anger for dear life. I’d rather feel that than the hollowness of being dumped. What have I done to deserve this treatment? Liam can’t treat me this way. I won’t let him.

  Unthinkingly, I lash out, slapping Liam across the face as hard as I can. His head whips to the side. Damn. That felt good. It's like déjà vu, only this time, it’s warranted.

  Liam slowly turns his head back to face me. There’s a red mark where I’ve struck him. And anger. Incredible anger in his eyes.

  “You don’t think I want you?” He grabs my hips and brings me inside his house, slamming the door closed. “Oh, I fucking want you.”

  Growling with anger, he grabs me and slings me up aga
inst the wall. He presses his hard body into me, letting me feel how hard his big cock is. “You want me, Elizabeth?” he grunts. “You sure this is what you want?”

  “If you want me, then fucking take me!” I scream at him.

  “You’re about to get fucked, Elle. If that’s something you don’t want, now would be the time to say something.”

  “I told you I want you--” Before I can finish, Liam’s lips are pressed against mine. I instantly part my lips and deepen the kiss. His hot tongue mingles with mine as his hands travel down my body.

  He pushes up my nightgown, and then pulls my panties off of me, exposing my swollen pussy. My clit throbs, and I push my pussy against his hand.

  “Fuck, Elle. You’re dripping wet for me.” He breathes out the words as if I’m torturing him.

  I look into his eyes and tell him again. “I want you, Liam.” I do. I want him so fucking bad. I need his touch. I need him. Can’t he tell?

  The word please is on the tip of my tongue, but he jams his fingers inside of me, probing, thrusting before I can get it out.

  Oh fuck, he feels so good. The heels of my feet dig into his ass, pushing him closer to me as he fingerfucks me.

  I groan and arch my back against the wall. Yes! My nipples harden and the sadness of him pushing me aside before diminishes as the pleasure burns low in my belly.

  “I want you,” he whispers in the crook of my neck as his fingers stroke my G-spot, bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. He kisses my neck, my jaw, and then my lips. All the while pleasuring me. Yes!

  He breaks our kiss and looks at me with heat in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I fucking want you.” His confession confuses me, but I don’t have the energy to think about it. There’s one easy answer that’s begging to spill from my lips.

  “Then take me,” I moan out and then gasp as he removes his fingers, leaving my throbbing pussy unsatisfied.