Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (27 page)

“It’s very pretty on you,” he said, and he looked pleased.

“I love it,” I said, and in the back of my mind I felt like I might start crying for some weird reason, so I made myself smile and willed my face to stay intact.
There was something about having a jewelry box presented to you at dinner, that was all.
I wasn’t expecting anything, but when I opened it, it wasn’t what I expected.
I couldn’t even really blame myself: the idea
was embedded in every little girl’s psyche, for better or for worse.

“This is so beautiful, John,” I said, touching the necklace. “You didn’t need to get me a gift.”

“I wanted to. It makes me happy to see you wear it,” he said. “And as pretty as that dress is, I can’t wait to see you wear nothing
but
it.”

“You’re the boss,” I said, bravely. I could hear a quaver in my voice so I had some more of my martini, quick.
You wanted something else to be in that box,
I thought to myself.
Admit it.

I admitted it. It was ridiculous for me to feel that way, I knew. But my heart had surged when I saw it; every wish and dream I’d never let myself have had bubbled to the surface in that instant. I made myself push it aside.

Good thing my Caesar salad and some weird looking, delicious-smelling bread smothered in sautéed mushrooms arrived, because I knew I was being completely, irrevocably ridiculous. Thankfully, John was digging into some sort of thinly-sliced beef with capers on it — I only learned what capers were since I met him, mind you — and seemed to not have noticed anything.

“Actually, I think I’d like dessert,” I said, in between shoveling the delicious food into my mouth. “I think some chocolate would do me good.”

“Goodnight, you crazy kids,” Corey said as he let us out at the front of the house.

“Go to bed,” John said as he collected me from my side of the car. “Breakfast is at six.”

“Back to business,” Corey said and smiled. He drove silently away.

“Six?” I asked, scowling. “Do we have to?”

John sighed and pulled me up the stairs. “Liberty, you have to take this very seriously. You’re still underweight, and you could barely run a mile this morning.” He looked at me, exasperated. “Do you really think I’m willing to take you on assignment like this?”

I turned on him, my eyes flashing. “You promised,” I said, my voice rising almost to a yell.

He held up his hand again to stop me. “I know what I did,” he said, and it sounded like he was fighting to keep his voice even. “But if you think that I’m going to risk losing you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

I looked at him stubbornly and he sighed in frustration. “You have to promise me that you’re going to work as hard as you’ve ever worked. And you have to eat what I tell you, when I tell you. You have to push yourself. You have to promise.” He looked at me and his face was grim.

“Of course I promise,” I said, grabbing his hands. “I don’t want to get hurt. I want to be ready. I want to be able to keep up with you.”

He walked away from me and flopped onto the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a minute. I knew he regretted ever telling me I could go.

Tough,
I thought.
A deal’s a deal.

“You think you can keep up with me?” he asked. He looked at me and laughed.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me not to underestimate myself,” I said, pulling myself up a little taller and tossing my hair. “I intend to take my training very seriously. You better watch your back. You might have a new second.”

“Really,” he said, arching his eyebrow.

“I’m young,” I said. “And I’m pretty rugged.” I held up my arm and made a muscle. “See?”

He pounced off the bed and grabbed his phone and pointed it at me. “Before and after,” he said. I laughed when the flash went off. “Now one more — with your bicep down, you big goof,” he said and laughed. “I want to remember tonight.” He flashed again and I gave him a big smile. My disappointment over what was inside the turquoise box had been shoved so hard to the back of my mind that my mental knuckles were white; I patted my beautiful necklace and I smiled easily.

I bent down to take off my shoes and John was suddenly behind me. “Don’t take those off,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me up. He carefully gathered my hair and put it over one shoulder and then unzipped my dress. I stepped out of it, making sure to avoid snagging the mile-high heels on the delicate beading. John hung it up for me and then looked at me hungrily. I had on nothing but a creamy, strapless lacy bra, matching underwear, the necklace and the heels.

“That’s more like it,” John said as he loosened his tie. I went to him and undid it, unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his cufflinks. He just stared at me the whole time, his piercing blue eyes taking every inch of me in, caressing me, owning me without touching me. He quickly took the rest of his clothes off and stood before me, naked and erect, and I got to look at his glorious body as it was intended. Every ounce of him was muscle, starting with his massive shoulders. Just looking at those shoulders made me quake, inside and out — he looked so huge it was almost like he was a caveman, going to come and pick me up, throw me over his shoulder and plunder me, or something. I didn’t know what that meant, but I had a feeling I would like it.

His chest was huge, pectoral muscles that shouldn’t have been humanly possible. They should be sculpted in alabaster, locked in a museum somewhere. He had a six-pack, of course, the likes you had to work for from an early age. And he had those divots near his hips. I don’t know what they were called, but they made me crazy. Like I wanted to clap and squeal every time I saw them. It was as if god had carved a line under his abdomen, leading to his perfect maleness. A beautiful perfect line that I wanted to like and bite and suck and pray to every time I saw it.

Then there were his legs, which had bulging thigh muscles…and above them…let me just say, it was big. It was big and in the light of the room I could see it was pointing right at me. Looking at it like that made me think that maybe there was no way it was going to ever get inside me, that it couldn’t possibly fit, and maybe it wasn’t a good idea to even try. But then another part of me screamed that it was
a very, very good idea
, and that we should try as soon as possible. That’s when I started to pant.

“Now,” John said. “Get in the shower.”

“With my
shoes
on?” I asked. I was ready to do whatever he asked, but we had to spare the shoes. I still had
some
principles.

“Nobody said anything about turning the water on. Yet,” he said, and pushed me in front of him into the bathroom. “In you go,” John said, gently pushing me in. He kissed me then, hard, and I moaned at the intensity of it, and feeling his cock pressing against the inside of my thighs, starting to rub up against me.

“Turn around,” he said urgently. I did and he pushed my back gently down. I put my hands down on the bench and spread my legs willingly. I knew what he wanted. My heels clicked against the tiles in the bathroom and the sound echoed. He ran his hands down my back and freed me from my bra. He pushed himself up against the outside of my panties and started rubbing himself against me, hard, as he grabbed each of my breasts in his hands and started rubbing them. He pulled back for a second — he must have stuck his fingers in his mouth — because when his hands came back, his fingers were wet. He stroked and pinched my nipples until they were painfully elongated.

I rubbed myself back and forth against him; my clitoris was throbbing. I stood up to my full height. I felt tall and powerful in these heels. I turned around and kissed him, deeply, and then went down on my knees. I took him all the way into my mouth all at once. He cried out, shocked, and I could see the cords standing out on his neck.
Good,
I thought.
I’m in charge here now.
I put my hand around the base of his shaft and ran it up and down his length, following my mouth. He groaned and flexed his hips, pulsing into me. I let him thrust all the way in, and then I pulled back and moved my mouth to the tip, sucking and biting on it. He inhaled and I felt like he might be on the verge.

“Not yet,” he whispered, and held my head off him for a moment. I watched, mesmerized, as he composed his face and brought himself back from the edge. “Together,” he said. I stood up and turned around again, putting my ass in the air and my hands on the bench without him even asking. I wanted him like that. He instantly pulled my panties to one side and slid himself back and forth against me, touching my clit with his tip, once, twice, until he finally gave in and slid all the way into me. We both cried out and I threw my head back in pleasure. It almost hurt, this fullness, but it was exquisite. He thrust further into me and I heard myself cry out again. He grabbed my hips, and slowly, almost cruelly at first, started to move all the way into me and almost all the way out of me, slamming himself into me, over and over, so I could feel every inch of him, throbbing. I don’t know how long he kept at it, repeating the thrust, filling me, pulling out. The world spun around me and my vision was fuzzy. I was throbbing, shattering around him and I could hear myself scream his name out, over and over, as he came into me, hot liquid filling me, as my whole body shook.

It was completely out of control.

Once I stopped shaking I stood up, dizzily, and he held me, gently kissing my face. Then I started crying. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“It was just intense,” I said. I laughed, shakily. “It’s just such a crazy connection. And to be so in your body and out of your body at the same time —”

“I know. It’s the same for me,” he said, kissing my hair and laughing.

“Is it always like this?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Never before for me,” he said. “Never before like this.” He sat me down on the bench, gently, and undid my shoes. He placed them carefully outside the shower and turned on the water. “It really is different when you love someone,” he said, and looked at me in wonder, pulling me up. I shakily pulled off my underwear and put them off to the side.

“And now, now that I’ve found you — again,” he looked at me here like I actually
might
be a naughty school girl, “I know what a gift it is.” He touched the necklace and looked into my eyes. “I love you, Liberty.”

I put my head against his chest and let the hot water wash over me. It was perfect. I let it be perfect. “I love you, too.”

Tomorrow was another day.

I woke up to the blaring of our alarm, early. Too early.

In the breaking light I could see there was a turquoise box on the bed. In between us. John was sitting up, looking at it.

“Don’t open it yet,” John said.

“Didn’t I already open it?” I asked. My voice sounded groggy from sleep, but I felt adrenaline suddenly coursing through my body.

“You opened the
first
box,” John said, still staring at it. “This is the second box.”

I just sat there and stared at the box, too.
Maybe I was dreaming.