Politically Incorrect (18 page)

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Authors: Jeanne McDonald

BOOK: Politically Incorrect
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“Of what?” he spoke slow and soft. He took a step toward me, but I was up and out of my seat before he could touch me again. I was afraid of what might happen if I felt his hands on my skin once more. He was tempting. Too inviting. And by far too dangerous to me. It was imperative that I kept my distance.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” I moved to the small sink and rested my hands against the cold steel. Sweat prickled my skin and my pounding head became a constant throb. From the window I caught sight of his reflection. He watched me. Analyzed me. All the while he inched in closer to me, eliminating the gap I’d managed to put between us.

“What are you scared of, Elizabeth?”

Though I doubt he meant to push me, it had become a habit of his, or more like a habit of ours. The command emanating from him surged the fury inside me. I whipped around to face him, my stomach whining over the movement. “I’m scared of trusting people. People lie. They cheat. They steal. I’m better off handling things on my own so I don’t have to lay my trust in someone who can or will eventually screw me over.”

Whoa! Where did that come from?

I wiped my hand over my mouth, my eyes cast downward. My secret, the one I kept from everyone, was out. I didn’t depend on people because I couldn’t trust anyone but myself. Not that I was some jaded soul or anything. I wasn’t. I’d led a satisfying life. Love surrounded me through my family, as broken as it was. But I’d seen the underbellies of power. I knew how trust could be used as a form of currency. I wanted no part of it.

“You still don’t trust me,” his throaty timbre rumbled through me.

The hurt in his voice made my already sick stomach churn harder. “I personally vetted you, Liam. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me you’re smart and good at your job.” He took a step forward. His index finger pressed beneath my chin as he lifted my face, yet I remained unable to look into his eyes.

“I’m the best,” I stated, my tone a little flat.

“You are, but you’ve also seen too much and trust no one because of it.”

“Thus is the life of politics.”

Liam traced his thumb along my jaw. “Trust me now. Let me help you.”

I dared a peek into those deep, dark eyes. That was my downfall. “How?”

His full lips pulled into a grin. “Sit back down and allow yourself to relax.” He stepped back and patted the bench, expressing his desire for me to return to my earlier station. Reluctant, I did as I was told and slunk down onto the bench. “Now close your eyes.”

My stubbornness nudged me, but I obeyed. Eyes closed, I felt him everywhere around me. The warmth of his touch, the twisting of my long, blonde locks around his hand, the way his thumbs pressed into the back of my neck. Just when I was almost relaxed, he leaned in and whispered close to my ear, “This is gonna hurt like hell for a second. Forgive me.”

No sooner had he uttered those words did earth-shattering pain explode inside my skull. A large hand moved around to cover my mouth as a scream detonated from my chest. Blinding light flashed behind my eyes. My tender stomach rolled, sending me into dry-heaves. “Breathe, Elizabeth,” Liam coached. “I promise if you breathe it’ll be okay.”

What he asked was almost impossible, but I managed to take air deep into my lungs. When I exhaled, I ripped his hand from my mouth and jerked around to him. “What the hell? You said you’d help. Not try to kill me.”

Liam stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. A jovial grin spread across his face. “Are you still in pain?”

I slid out from the bench. “Of course, I’m still…” That’s when it struck me. The headache was gone. I reached behind my head to rub the place Liam had assaulted. It was tender, but the intense ache was indeed gone. “How’d you do that?”

Liam turned to the cabinet beside the window and pulled down two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “In college I had a lot of problems with stress. Between basketball and my class load, I stayed stressed out. The team physician used to do that to me weekly, along with a scolding about how I took on more than a kid my age should.” Liam chuckled as he poured two fingers into each glass and sat one down in front of me. “Needless to say, after college I learned my own pressure points. Finding yours was a cinch, since you carry your stress in the same places I do.” I glanced down at the amber liquid. It vibrated with the rumble of the bus. “To trust.”

I lifted my glass, but said nothing. We both downed our shots like pros.

“Now,” he muttered behind the lip of the tumbler, “you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

I massaged the back of my neck, astonished at how much better I felt. “Work, I guess.”

That was as close to the truth as he would get. It was Liam who stressed me out. The way he looked at me. The way he stayed so close that I often smelled his cologne on my skin long after we parted ways. But most of all, I stressed over how I wanted him when I shouldn’t. I hated how one minute I wanted to rip off his clothes and the very next I wanted to scratch his eyes out.

Cool, mocking eyes zeroed in on mine. “Is it Harper?”

“Harper?” I squeaked, biting back a laugh. “Why would I be stressed over Harper?”

“I just thought…” He dropped his gaze down to the empty glass in his hand, his jaw jutted and his nose flared.

“Are you insinuating that Harper and me…” My voice trailed off.

“I shouldn’t have…it isn’t my place...” Liam took my empty glass from my hand and placed it in the sink next to his. With his back still turned to me, his hands gripped the small counter and his shoulders slumped forward.

“It’s all right. To answer your question, no it’s not Harper.” I popped the knuckles in my thumbs. “And to clarify your assumption, Harper and I are not together in any capacity other than friendship.” I shrugged. “Well, that and campaign funding.”

Liam turned around, leaning back against the counter. His long legs crossed in front of him. “So you and Harper never...you know...” Liam’s nose wrinkled.

“Slept together? God, no. Harper’s like a brother to me.” Liam’s shoulders sagged at my response. “What about you and Kristin? Have you two ever...you know…” I teased, using his same vernacular.

Liam shook his head. “Never. We kissed once back in middle school, but that was as far as it ever went.” He paused for a moment, then lifted his chin and blurted out, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Taken aback, I slid further into the bench seat, resting my elbow on the table. My feet kicked out in front of me, crossed at the ankles, only inches from Liam’s. It felt weird to talk about myself to someone, but also nice. A wry smile tugged my lips as I brushed my bangs from my face. “I haven’t been on a date-date since the night I took on your campaign, and even that date had been a farce.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me about him.” Liam’s face burned hot in the dim cabin light. “Assholes like him are one of the many reasons why I don’t mess around. Women deserve to be treasured and adored. A real man knows how to please his woman, not belittle her.”

“Not all men think that way, Liam. Especially when dating in your forties.”

“That’s bullshit. I swear, I would’ve punched him for simply being an idiot. You’re absolutely stunning.”

Heat began to rise up my face. I covered my cheeks with my hands to hide my embarrassment. Liam had called me stunning. “It’s not that big of a deal. I handled him. Quite well, I might add.”

“I’m sure you did, but I still would’ve pummeled him on merit alone.”

A sprinkle of desire fluttered down my spine. I wanted nothing more than to kiss the anger off his face. He’d come to my rescue if given the chance. He wanted to protect me, and if I cared to admit it, I wanted him to.

I lifted from my seat, and just like at the television studio, I reached up and brushed his hair back from his face. This time, all alone, I allowed my hand to linger, drifting down from his forehead to his cheek. Coarse hair scratched against my skin as I slowly drew the angle of his jaw with my fingertips. Liam closed his eyes, his breathing growing heavier as my fingers floated along the contours of his face. My touch became softer with each stroke until I went to remove my hand from his jaw. Liam’s eyes popped open and he grabbed my wrist. His long fingers coiled around my arm, holding my hand to his cheek. I couldn’t even begin to penetrate the hazy bubble surrounding my thoughts. The savage look in his eyes burned red hot through my veins.

Inch by inch our mouths moved closer. Already I could taste him on my lips. Sweet but spicy, and full of passion. He was decadent; a temptation.

My temptation.

When he captured my lips, I floated to heaven.

At first the kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, but then he became bolder, more confident. He pressed his mouth hard against mine, his tongue circling my lips for permission. There was no thought, no contemplation, no planning. Pure primal instinct controlled my every move, as I parted my lips.

His tongue darted inside my mouth, exploring and taking what he wanted. My hands moved to his hair, and I was suddenly thankful I’d made him grow it out. Our heart beats, hard and pounding, gave rhythm to the need that burned between us. His tongue, hot and wet, tangled with mine, but there was too much distance still between us.

A soft moan rumbled in my chest, as he pulled back, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth. He reached out and wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His body felt hard and lean to my feminine and soft. I was powerless in his embrace. Even if I wanted to escape, which I didn’t, I couldn’t have. His arms encircled me and his tongue lunged back into my mouth, exploring every inch.

Nothing about the kiss was gentle. All my virginal beliefs about him flew right out the window by the way his fingers toyed with the hem of my t-shirt, and the carnal way he brushed the tips of his fingers along my hypersensitive skin. Liam was all man, and that man knew how to kiss.

When he broke away, we both stared into each other's eyes, breathless. Never had anyone looked at me as he did. His expression melted my heart and consumed my soul. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that,” he murmured.

That’s when my stupid brain kicked in, knocking my overactive libido out of the way. I caught my kiss-swollen lip between my teeth, unable to speak.

His smile dropped. “Elizabeth, don’t.”

But I did. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

There were no words to express how much I wanted him. It felt damn good to know he wanted me, too, but none of that was possible. He was too young for me. More important, though, he was in the middle of a campaign. He didn’t need this kind of secret lurking in the shadows.

“Why not?”

I stepped back, placing distance between us.

“Do I really need to list the reasons why?”

Liam advanced forward, filling the empty space I’d created. “After that kiss you’ll have to, because right now I see no reason why I shouldn’t kiss you like that again and again and again.”

I tried to back away but the table foiled my plans. With my ass flush against the wooden surface, Liam marched to me, his body pressed against mine as I tried to tick off the reasons. “The most important is the election,” I gushed. “You don’t need a scandal when you’re leading in the polls like you are. And this” ─I pointed back and forth between us─ “screams scandal. Older woman, younger man, on top of me running your campaign!” I gasped in horror. “The media would eat it up.”

“I see.” Ice filled my veins at the sound of his voice. “So it’s my age that really bothers you.”

“No! Wait! What? No!” I stammered.

White noise buzzed through my mind. Liam’s intense stare harnessed me where I stood. Not even a bump from the road could move me. As if to size me up, he dipped his head. I thought he might speak, but instead he moved so his nose brushed along my jaw. The heat of his breath jolted me to my very core. Unabashed, he pushed his hand under my shirt, circling his finger around my navel. “I’m not that much younger than you, Elizabeth McNeal.”

I gulped hard. He was making love to me with my clothes on. How was that even possible?

“I know.”

“Then stop worrying about how old I am.”

“I’m not,” I lied.

Goose bumps spread across my skin. Every nerve inside my body buzzed with anticipation. Those lips. Those fingers. Those eyes. God, I wanted him.

Further he pushed me back so that I was practically lying on the table. I gripped the hard surface, as my elbows buckled beneath the pressure. It would’ve been so easy for him to pull my pants down and have his way with me. His hand, skimmed lower to my waistband, teasing, but never dipping beneath the fabric. “Are you sure?”

I shivered beneath his touch, aching for him to make the final move and take me right then. “Positive,” I confirmed. And this time I wasn’t lying. His age was nothing when it came to the way he made me feel.

Liam pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “All right. Then I’ll say goodnight now, before I lose all control.”

“What do you mean?”

Stupid, stupid question.

His fingers grazed along the side of my hip. “You know very well what I mean.” His tongue darted out, tracing the line of my lips. I gasped as he slipped inside my mouth once again. The kiss lasted only a second, but it left me aching and hungry for more.

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