Escaping Reality

who all but shouted it at him. “Yes. Yes, I do, but—”
    His mouth comes down hard on mine, hot with demand, with anger. I
    do not want him to be angry and I lean into him, hoping it will fade, hoping
    to get lost in him, but it doesn’t work. I taste the bite of his mood, the
    roughness of his tongue, and I shove at his chest and tear my mouth from
    his. “Wait. Not like this.”
    “You want to fuck or you don’t. I am not a yo-yo any more than you
    are one of my mathematical equations.”
    “Don’t say it like that.”
    “Don’t challenge me to fuck you and then run away.”
    Run away. I am always running away and sick of that being my life.
    “You’re just”—I make myself look at him—“you’re you, Liam, like you said
    I’m…me. And you, Liam Stone, are like a bull when you want something.
    You charge.”
    “What I want is you.”
    Even though I know this, hearing it stirs a sweet spot in my belly and
    all I want to do is savor the sensation and the man who created it. “Then
    please. Just be with me. Just be with me, Liam.”
    He wraps his fingers around my neck and pulls me to him. “I get
    wanting to block things out. Been there, done that, baby, but I won’t let
    you do it to me. We’re going to talk tomorrow, but tonight, we’ll forget.”
    He brushes his lips over mine and I feel myself tremble from the simple, but
    powerful touch. “Now. Turn around.” He doesn’t give me time to respond,
    rotating me to face the door, my hands on the hard surface, and I am
    beginning to think he likes me like this. I think I might like me like this. He
    leans into me, his body deliciously heavy and hard, his breath a warm
    seduction against my neck as he declares, “No more barriers,” and tugs my
    zipper down, though I do not think he is talking about clothes.
    I was kidding myself to challenge him to “fuck” me, to think sex is my
    sanctuary from words with Liam when I am headed deeper into this web of
    intimacy with him, a place where he will want, and even deserve, answers
    to all of his questions. But as his hands glide my dress down my shoulders,
    leaving goose bumps in their wake, I find it hard to care. He promised to
    take me away and I believe he can. Already, I am sinking into the sweet
    oblivion of pleasure that only Liam has ever helped me find. He is my
    sanctuary from everything else. He alone is my escape.
    “Step,” he commands, and I lift my feet one after another and let him
    kick my dress away. Then I squeeze my eyes shut when he unhooks my bra,
    and I shrug out of it, and just like that, I am, as I was only one night before,
    naked before this man, my breasts swollen and heavy, my nipples tight
    balls of aching need. His hands flatten on the wall by my head but he does
    not touch me. He likes this, I think. To trap me. To be in control. And I like
    it. I like him being in control instead of the world outside. I like that when I
    hand control to him there is pleasure, not pain.
    “Turn back around,” he commands, and I like that, too. The
    roughness of his voice, the absoluteness of him being in charge. I do not
    hesitate to comply. I face him, and his gaze does a hot up-and-down
    inspection of my naked body, that sizzles every nerve ending I own.
    “Take off the shoes.”
    I kick them off.
    “Now the panties and the thigh-highs. I want nothing between us.”
    But he is fully clothed. “Are you…?”
    “When you ask questions, I ask questions.”
    I swallow hard at the pointed remark and the clear message he
    intends. He knows that’s what I do. He knows I play dodgeball, and with
    anyone else it would work. With him, I’ve already run out of rope. I shove
    aside the worry this creates inside me and focus on just what I told him.
    Tonight. An escape. With him.
    I roll down my thigh-highs and toss them away, and waste no time
    with my panties. I am naked before this man but I am so much more. I am
    exposed, vulnerable, and somehow I feel protected and safe.
    “On your knees,” he orders softly.
    “My knees?”
    “No questions, baby. You do what I say.”
    I inhale and hold in the air. I trust Liam. I trust Liam. When was the
    last time I said that about anyone? I lower myself to my knees, the soft
    carpeting padding my bare skin. Liam squats in front of me. “Hands over
    your head and on the door handle.”
    This time I gulp. I cannot believe I am doing this, but I do. I curl my
    fingers around the knob above my head, and now I am truly exposed,