25
MARGARET
I WATCH LIAM leave the hotel room and worry my bottom lip. I know I flung myself onto Ford, but I was just surprised to see him there and relieved to know he’s all right. I know how it looked, and now Liam is gone; I feel unease that I’ve messed up.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Ford’s voice brings me back, and he places his hands on my shoulders. He doesn’t move them, and I think it’s to ground himself more than anything. I feel the same way he does right now; it felt like he’d be the last person I would see before I died.
“Me too—I mean, that you’re all right.” I fumble my words and chuckle a little.
“I honestly didn’t think we were going to make it out of there. Thank God I got to the tracker.”
“Tracker?”
He shakes his head. “I forgot you were unconscious for that part. I had a tracker in my shoe, and I was finally able to reach it after a ton of struggling. Once I enabled it, the FBI could see our location.”
“Oh.” I assumed Liam had gotten it out of Anton. I never once thought Ford was doing anything other than trying to break free of the chains. “I guess I was pretty out of it, huh?” I chuckle.
“Not so out of it that you didn’t stomp the life out of a rat.” He laughs at my expression when I remember that moment.
“Oh God.” I grimace and place a hand over my stomach. “I really did that, didn’t I?”
“You did.” He’s still smirking in amusement. “It was nasty as hell, too.”
I groan and look at him. “Well, just add that to the crazy shit I’ve done then. First on that list: shooting you.”
At that he throws his head back and laughs at me. When he composes himself, he takes a step back and his face softens. I wait for him to get whatever he needs to release off of his chest. “I can’t tell you how worried I was about us getting out alive.” He pauses and rubs his jaw. “I was on a mission years ago and…it was far too similar to what you’ve been through.” His eyes lock on mine, and I interlace my fingers in front of me, giving him time to sort through his thoughts. “I am just so glad you’re okay, and…” He reaches into his pocket for a slip of paper. “I wanted you to have this. It’s my personal cell.” Ford waits until he has my eyes again and says, “If you ever need anything, you can call. Day or night, next week or in ten years—any time.”
“Wow.” I’m truly surprised that he would give me this. Ford is definitely one of the good guys. “Thanks, Ford.” He turns to leave, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Wait, I’m still gonna see you, right?” I ask, more worried than I should be about losing my new friend. There’s an element here that I’m unsure how to interpret. It feels like I went from not knowing his name to being best friends.
“Of course.” His dimples greet me, and he steps forward to give me a reassuring hug.
He doesn’t linger long, and when he’s gone, I go sit on the bed by the door. I get a whiff of Liam, his cologne wafting through the air and reminding me that he left too and I don’t know when he’s coming back.
The ache I’ve felt since I woke up hasn’t left me, and I wish more than anything he were here so we could have some time, even if it’s only an hour, to be together. I want to reassure myself and him that we’re both real, that we’re both in this thing—whatever it is we want to call it—until the end.
The door opens suddenly, and it’s like my fantasy has brought him to me. I take a look at him, his eyes holding unspoken questions.
Of course, he left Ford in here alone with me so we could talk, but they had time before I came out of the bathroom. Does he know Ford is struggling with what happened the last few days?
Deciding to wait on asking any of those questions, I take a shaky breath and take action on something I’ve been dreaming about since he left me at my apartment several weeks ago, since our first night together, since that spark of hope I had when I met him bloomed into something more.
Standing slowly, I cross the room. My hands go straight for his neck and his quickly wrap around my waist, his arms engulfing my body like he could crush me. I give in to the kiss, letting him take control quickly.
I touch his wet hair and pull away. “Did you take a shower?”
He squints. “Yes.” He doesn’t give me more, and my body can’t wait a second longer. A sense of urgency drives me, and Liam is quick to reciprocate. He backs me to the first bed and lays me down. He takes a minute to look me over seductively and tries to bite back a grin when he sees how heavily I’m breathing.
Just his feral gaze makes my body heat. He bends over me, and his hand starts a slow trail from the column of my throat down between my breasts, the cleavage ample in this shirt. I lean up for him to take it off over my head.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I throw off my bra, letting it fall to the bed. He never takes his eyes off me, his gaze molten and perusing every inch of my exposed skin. I feel like he’s worshiping me with his eyes, and a new sense of self-appreciation washes over me. His gaze alone makes me feel like a queen.
He slowly unbuttons my jeans and pushes them off my hips, taking care to take my panties down with them. I’m completely exposed to him, my curves wide but soft, and his touch makes my skin heat, makes my face flush just from having him watch my response.
His nose trails up my shin, over the juncture between my legs, and I jump at the contact. Up over my belly button he goes, stopping when he’s at my left breast. His hand covers my right one and his lips clasp over my left nipple, making me take in a sharp breath.
Liam tortures me there, but my pleas go unheard, and he continues for a moment before making his way back to my face, kissing me like a man starved. His manner is soothing, and I take every little bit he gives to me.
He pulls away enough to look into my eyes, but his words are what make me melt. “You’re so beautiful, Margaret.”