Escaping Reality

legs
    wrap around his waist, and one of my shoes falls to the ground, so I kick the
    other one free. “Where’s the bedroom?” he asks, a gravelly urgency to his
    voice that mirrors what I feel.
    “I don’t know. The right, I think.” I sound urgent. I am urgent.
    He starts walking and I bury my head in his neck, inhaling his scent,
    and tiny splinters of memory begin to pierce the fog of desire. I shove them
    away, refusing to be consumed by the past when I have this man to do it
    for me.
    I resolve to lose myself in kissing every inch of Liam’s neck, but as
    soon as I make a move, he curses under his breath. I struggled to see
    behind me. “What? What is it?”
    “No sheets, pillows, or blankets,” he informs me, and he’s already
    retraced his steps until we’ve re-entered the hallway. “Your boss should
    have made sure this was handled.”
    “I’m sure he didn’t think—”
    “Exactly,” he concludes. “I’m taking you to my hotel, where I can lick
    you from head to toe on proper bedding.”
    “What? Liam. No.” He shifts my weight and reaches for the door.
    “Stop!”
    He straightens and he does not look pleased. “Stop why?”
    My mind races for an answer, for one of the many lies I live to tell.
    “My apartment is directly across from the hotel. I’ll see the staff around the
    neighborhood. I don’t want them thinking of me as the floozy some rich guy
    brought to his bed for a night every time I walk by.”
    He arches a brow. “Rich guy? Floozy?”
    “That’s what it will seem like, Liam.”
    He scowls and lowers me to the ground, pressing me against the
    door, his hands settling possessively on my waist. “You aren’t a floozy. You
    know that, right?”
    I hate the excuse I’ve made, the lie that is my life, and the idea that it
    might push him out the door, that he might not ever touch me again, is
    unbearable enough to give me courage. “If you want to fuck me, it’s here
    and now. Otherwise, goodnight, Liam. Thanks for the ride.”
    He leans back and rests his hands on his hips, no longer touching me,
    and I am shaken by how much the loss of the connection with him affects
    me. I am used to being alone. I am used to not being touched. “This is crazy,
    Amy. Your apartment isn’t ready to be lived in.”
    My apartment. This place is not and never will be my apartment. It
    isn’t mine. It will never be mine but he can never know that. “I need to stay
    here tonight,” I say, and I am not pleased with the way my voice cracks.
    Liam notices, too. I see it in the slight flicker of his eyes. “You need to
    be here?”
    “Yes.” And my voice is no stronger now than moments before, damn
    it. “I need to be here.”
    He leans in, one hand on the wall by my face his big body close but
    still not touching me.
    Why do I need him to touch me this badly? “Then I need to be here
    tonight,” he declares. “ We will be here tonight.”
    We. I know the word really means nothing. This is a night. That’s
    what I want. He’s made it clear that is what he wants. But I like the idea of
    being “we” right now. And I desperately want to get back to forgetting
    everything but him. I push to my toes and press my lips to his.
    His arm wraps my waist again and he pulls me close, his body a
    warm, welcome shelter from the nightmare I’ve left outside this door. “I’m
    not going anywhere you aren’t tonight,” he promises.
    Tonight. It’s enough. It has to be enough. It will be enough. “Good. I
    don’t want you to.”
    I’ve barely said the words, when he turns me to face the door. “What
    are you doing?” I demand, catching my weight on the door with my palms.
    He steps closer, his hips framing mine, the thick ridge of his erection
    pressed to my backside. “Preparing you.”
    “Preparing me?” I gasp. “What does that mean?”
    He tugs my jacket down my shoulders and I expect him to pull it free,
    but instead he tangles it around my arms and turns me around to face him.
    “You can free your hands, but don’t.”
    “No. No.” I knew he’d ask for too much. I knew. “I can’t do this. I
    can’t—”
    He cups my cheeks. “Deep breath, baby. I know you’re on unfamiliar
    ground and I know you barely know me, but I’m just going to make you
    come. Pure pleasure, nothing more. I know when things feel out of control
    you think you need control. But sometimes, having a safe place to give it
    away is the best way to block everything else out. I’m asking you