I snort at his audacity.
At the ball he fucked me and called me his. His to “destroy.” I giggle and he glares at me.
Liam stomps over to me and grabs me by my throat and I laugh again, reaching my palm up and mirroring his movement.
He leans down. “You’remine, Malia,” he growls.
I try to scoff but the noise dies in my throat as he tightens his hold on my throat. I tighten mine, never taking my eyes off his blue eyes. I bring my knee up and slam it into his stomach causing him to grunt and loosen his hold on me. I slam my heel on his foot, but he smiles at me when they don’t pierce through his steel-toe boots.
He recovers quickly from the blow to the stomach and grabs a handful of my hair and throws me onto one of the loveseats. I had pulled us into a private room so we could hash this shit out because I’m done. He either wants me or he doesn’t.
The ball was a week ago and I haven’t seen or heard from him after his bullshit proclamation. I’ve wasted enough time feeling sorry for myself and missing him. This asshole doesn’t run my life and I have better things to do than to play pretend.
I straighten on the sofa, my hands bracing the backrest, so I didn’t topple over when he tossed me like I was nothing. I don’t believe he would hurt me. I just don’t think he likes these battles of control we have. I’m woman enough to admit I handed it to him, Ilikedwhen he controlled me.
But now, I’m ready to make him kneel.
I go to push off the couch when his chest presses down on my back, locking me place as his arm wraps around my waist. I throw my head back hoping to make purchase with his face, but he dodges it.
Liam’s free hand works his leather jacket off of me leaving me in nothing but my heels. I growl in annoyance, and he chuckles behind me, resting his head on the crook of my shoulder, his breath ghosting my ear.
“I don’t think you understood me clearly when I fucked you on the balcony, Cupcake.”
My elbow flies back and catches him in the ribs. He lets out a whoosh of air but doesn’t let up. It only fuels him more. Liam grabs both of my arms and secures my wrists with one hand, arching my back from the position he has me in. His free hand wraps around my hair again, and he yanks my head back.
I moan, and not from the pain. I’ve never really had a man manhandle me like this before Liam—at least not sexually—and if it weren’t for the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight, he wouldn’t have had a chance. My body is bent and pulled tight, my scalp is screaming but my pussy pools, more than ready for whatever he plans on doing to me. But my mouth sometimes doesn’t know how to shut up.
So, doing what I do best, I push. “Fuckyou, asshole!” I spit, tired of his bullshit. “You don’t get to claim me, Liam Brenner, then have some bitch at your house. I’m notyours.”
Liam pushes off me and releases me, I stand and turn to face him, raising my chin and smile at the confused look on his face. He’s still pissed, but that bewilderment is warring with the anger.
“What the fuck—” His eyes round before they squint as amusement fills his face. He chuckles. “You saw Mona.”
It wasn’t a question. My drunken mind and inability to keep my mouth shut gave me away. There was heat in his eyes before but nothing like the inferno in them now. He thinks I’m jealous. And maybe I am, but after what I did with Marco in the bathroom of Lion’s club, do I have the right to be jealous of it?
The difference is, I let Marco dick me down thinking I’d never see Liam again. He threatened both me and my father’s lives in his life’s mission of vengeance. Now, we’re here playing a game of power and who will come out on top. He claimed me as his then had a woman at his house.
We are not the same.
Granted I don’t know what happened between them, when I left she was standing at his doorstep. And I can’t trust what she told me.
I stand on the roof making my final rounds and checking the windows for movement inside Mona’s house. There’s no doubt this bitch will have some sort of security system, which I can handle on my own, but two seconds of an alarm blaring will have someone I don’t expect come to inspect the source.
It looks like she lives alone in her two-story home, which makes this almost too easy. I snort and walk toward the edge of the house, peering over the edge to find a place to land. There’s softer ground toward the backyard, but it’s likely her security system is located in the front.
I line my toes with the edge of the roof and keep my focus forward as I jump, bending my legs and tucking my elbows and chin into my body to absorb the shock of my descent. I catch the ground on the balls of my feet, making sure my body is limp and both feet hit at the same time to avoid injury.
I’ve done this a thousand times over, however heels make the jump a little trickier. I waste no time when my body straightens, and I check my surroundings making sure no one saw me. Moving toward the front door, I remove pins from my hair and get to work on the locks.
It doesn’t take long for me to break in. She doesn’t deadbolt her door, which I can only imagine is slight arrogance for being a cop, and a whole lot of trust in an alarm system.
No sounds ring out in the house when I push open the door, but the security pad is lit up on the interior wall. It’s a silent alarm and I disable it without blinking. It wasn’t long enough that the cops would make a house call.
Detective Bridges isn’t the brightest cop I’ve met and how easy it was to break into her house just proves that. I lock the door as she has it and search around the house to make sure my outside inspection was accurate.
When satisfied that I’m alone, I walk back downstairs and sit on the couch that is facing her foyer. She won’t see me when she enters.
It takes about thirty minutes before I hear her car door close and her heels clicking on the concrete path outside. It sounds like there’s irritation in her gait, the steps fall too heavy and quick for normal walking.