Escaping Reality

taught me freezes me, and Liam seems
    to know immediately, but he is not discouraged. He presses my hands and
    molds them to the counter behind me with his own. “Leave them there.”
    I don’t speak. I am so nervous and aroused. He brushes his lips over
    mine. “Say ‘yes’, Amy.”
    “Yes,” I whisper, and he smiles.
    “You really are so damn sexy.”
    “I don’t feel sexy right now.”
    “Then what do you feel?”
    “Out of my league.” And it is a relief to actually say what I really feel.
    “If anyone is out of their league, baby, it’s me. You’re an angel and
    I’m…not.” He glances up at the ceiling, as if he’s struggling with something,
    before his stormy gaze returns to mine. “Maybe that’s the appeal for both
    of us. We’re different, dark and light. Right and wrong.
    Now, don’t move or I’ll show you just how not an angel I am.”
    The threat is darkly erotic, arousing, but it does not stop me from
    seeing pain and self-loathing deep beneath his surface that I relate to far
    too well. I want to know what made him, what drives him, what haunts him
    in the night, and I don’t care what he says. Something haunts him. And I
    want to be the angel he sees me as, when I know that I left that “me” in the
    past.
    I will never be an angel to anyone but him, and that will be a
    one-night façade. “I won’t move my hands, Liam. Not if you don’t want me
    to.”
    I watch his eyes dilate, darken, his jaw tightening into a hard line, and
    this is not the reaction I had hoped for. His hands move from mine to rest
    on my shoulders. “Now I’m going to fuck you, Amy.” There is a new
    gruffness to his tone, and I almost feel as if he’s trying to shock me, to
    prove that I’m the angel, and he is not. But then he drags his fingers
    downward, trailing over my breasts to caress my nipples. His touch is light,
    teasingly gentle, and when it is gone, I gasp with the deep ache in my sex,
    where I want him to be. “I don’t like the way you won’t let me touch you.”
    “You can touch me.” He unzips his pants and shoves them down, his
    hard cock jutting forward, thickly veined, and reaches in his pocket and
    pulls out his wallet. “Later.”
    I only have tonight. I only have tonight. “Promise me,” I insist, and for
    reasons I do not try to understand, I need his agreement. “I need you to
    promise me, Liam.” And my voice is raspy, filled with emotion that reaches
    beyond touching him. I want more and I don’t even know what “more” is.
    He sets his wallet on the counter, a wrapped condom now in his
    hand, and presses his palms to my knees. “I promise, Amy.” He leans in and
    kisses me, his mouth lingering on mine a moment, as if he is savoring me,
    and I feel the connection to this man in some deep part of my soul. I can’t
    explain it. Maybe I just need to create this in my mind to survive the day or
    justify what I am doing. But it is right for me now. He is right for me now.
    Slowly, he leans back, and it is as if a simmering fire sparks back into
    life. His gaze holds mine as he tears open the condom and discards the
    wrapper. My heart thunders in my ears and my sex aches with the
    emptiness in me that only he can fill. He looks down to roll the condom on,
    and I cannot help but think about how prepared he is, how normal this is
    for him. I do not have time for my mind to go crazy. He is quick and in
    seconds his mouth is back on mine, and each delicious swipe of his tongue
    seduces me more. He is a drug that delivers passion and escape.
    He tears his mouth away, watching me as he curves a hand under my
    backside and lifts me. His gaze lowers, raking over my breasts, heating my
    skin, and then his free hand wraps his cock and he slides it along the
    sensitive lips of my sex, back and forth, until I question how urgent he truly
    is, and I am panting with anticipation.
    “Please, Liam,” I whisper, far less shy now that I am desperate to feel
    him inside me.
    The instant I issue the plea, he reacts as if that was what he was
    waiting for. He presses inside me and drives deep, filling me, stretching me,
    and now both of his hands cup my backside, arching my hips just how he
    wants them. He sinks in, burying himself to the deepest part of my body,
    and pleasure slides over his features. “Oh yeah, baby. You feel like heaven.”
    He lowers his head and licks one of my nipples, then suckles, and the
    sensation spirals through me, straight to my lower belly. My sex