A Starlet in Venice (5 page)

Tatiana:

For the next five days, I pushed everything out of my head and focused on the shoot. As a result, I still hadn’t figured anything out when Liam arrived in Dingle to pick me up.

We’d left off our last conversation without any firm conclusions. Though it would have broken my heart, I had wanted him to agree with me that our night together was a mistake, one that we wouldn’t repeat. But he hadn’t said that, and he hadn’t agreed to anything. He’d just deflected the conversation, and now, I was going to be sitting in a car with him for almost four hours.

“I got shit-faced at that bar once,” he said, pointing to a building on the main shopping drag. “Sang ditties all night.”

“Do you miss living in Ireland?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

“I live close enough to come home when I need,” he replied.  “How’s the filming going, rabbit?”

So he was going to avoid mentioning our night together. I should have been glad; this way, things could just return to normal. But I wasn’t. There was an ache behind my eyes, and I fought the urge to burst into tears. Because if I was both foolish enough to have sex with Liam, and then become a blubbering wreck, that would be a friendship-ender.

“Fine,” I said. We chatted about everything and nothing on the drive.

***

I stretched as I got out of the car. Liam’s parents’ house was located in the outskirts of Cork, and though it was winter, it was still very green and lush. It was cold though, and I shivered, my skin chilled at the sudden contrast between the warmth of the car and the damp bite of the air. It was early evening, just after four, but the sky was already darkening.

“Nice house,” I commented. It was an old farmhouse, and it radiated permanence and sturdiness.

“It belonged to my mother’s parents.” He urged me forward. “Come on, rabbit.” He grabbed our bags, and deposited them on the doorstep, ringing the doorbell. I gulped, nervous. I met new people all the time when filming, and I never enjoyed it. And the idea of meeting Liam’s family was nerve-wracking.

“Liam,” the door opened, and a woman beamed at us. “There you are, lad.” Liam was folded into a warm hug, and I stood off to the sidelines, completely envious of the love on display.

“And you must be Tatiana,” she turned to me. “I’m Maureen. Welcome, dear. Liam, it’s chilly in the doorway, let the poor girl in.”

“You were hugging me and blocking the way,” Liam pointed out dryly, let me step ahead of him, and flashing me a grin. I followed Liam’s mother down a narrow hallway, and into a kitchen, dominated by a large wooden table. Liam promptly dumped the bags in a corner, and sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him.

“Tatiana, dear, can I get you something to drink? Tea, coffee, beer, wine?” Liam’s mother asked.

“Tea would be lovely, Mrs. Callahan,” I responded, and Liam chuckled.

“That’s Italian disdain for our coffee, ma,” he told her, winking at me. “She’s sticking with tea to be safe.”

I aimed a kick at him under the table, blushing red when Liam’s mother turned at the same time, catching me in the act. She laughed affably. “Liam,” she chided, “leave the poor girl alone. Tatiana, please call me Maureen. Mrs. Callahan makes me feel like a school teacher.”

“You are a school teacher,” Liam said, taking the cup of coffee his mom handed him with a smile of thanks.

“A retired one, and I don’t need to be reminded of that every single minute,” she shot back, and I suppressed a grin at the two of them. “Now, the girls are getting in tonight, and your father went to the pub but promised to be back in time for dinner. It’s going to be a full house for Christmas, so I’ve put the two of you in your old room, Liam.”

Wait, what? I was going to be sharing a room with Liam? I glanced over at him, and he gazed back with an implacable look in his eyes. I took a sip of my tea, shelving my instinctive protest. Maureen had just mentioned a full house. It would be ungracious to protest the sleeping arrangements. She obviously thought we were a couple, but that was a conversation I needed to have with Liam, not his mother.

“That’s fine, ma,” Liam replied calmly. “You need any help with dinner?”

She beamed at him. He was clearly the apple of her eye. “No, lad. I’m almost done, and I better go to the pub and drag your father back home, or he’ll be there until closing. I might stay and have a drink myself. Why don’t you get settled in, and if you want, you can meet us at the pub?”

I swallowed. I was going to be alone with Liam.

“The Callahans,” Liam announced dryly. “If you can’t find them at home, they’ll be at O'Donoghue's pub down the road. Give us about an hour to unpack and settle in, ma, and we’ll join you.”

She nodded, wiping her hands on the apron she wore around her waist, and untying it. “You’ll lock the door, Liam?” she asked. “I generally don’t bother, but the house across the street got burgled, and I’m keeping the door locked as a precaution.”

Liam nodded. “Typical Christmas-time theft?”

“That, and an empty house,” Maureen said. “The O’Connors are away visiting their new grandson in America.”

“Okay, ma,” Liam said hastily. “We’ll lock up.” He practically pushed her out the door, and then closed it, shaking his head. “Crisis averted,” he commented.

I raised an eyebrow. “What was that about?”

“Any moment now, and it would have been a comment about how none of her children are stepping up to the plate and giving her grandchildren,” he said. “My sisters and I have become experts at deflecting that.”

I laughed. I didn’t know what a typical family was, and I wasn’t even sure if there was one, but Liam’s mom was very much how I would have imagined an ideal mom to be.

Not like your mother,
I thought instinctively, and I must have stiffened, because Liam looked at me sharply. “What’s wrong, Tia?” he asked.

“I’m just a little envious,” I said. “Your mom seems great.”

He smiled fondly. “She is pretty great,” he said. “But before you get too envious, Tia, see how you do after three days of non-stop fussing. Come on up, I’ll show you where we’ll be sleeping.”

Where we’d be sleeping. Liam and I, in the same bed.
I gulped. Okay, I could do this. Nothing would happen that I didn’t want; I was completely certain of that. All I had to do was keep a lid on my own desire, and this situation would be okay.

***

I looked at his room, with the Formula 1 posters on the wall, and I started giggling. “This used to be your room when you were a teenager?”  

He grimaced. “I went away to college at seventeen, but this was my room until then.” He looked around. “God, I was such a cliché,” he commented ruefully. “The room on top of the garage to escape my sisters, and the racing posters to assert my masculinity. Teenagers.”

He didn’t need to assert his masculinity. He could be easy and relaxed. He didn’t need to glower and frown to display his dominance, because underneath his t-shirt was rock-hard muscle, and all I wanted to do was run my fingers over every bit of his chest.

“Can I ask a question?”

Liam looked at me with a grin. “I think you just did,” he said. “Come here, rabbit.” His tone had changed. It had become deeper and harder, and that phrase was unmistakably an order. He tapped his knees. “Come sit on my lap.”

“Liam,” I protested helplessly, though my body was determined to betray me. My pussy ached at his tone and at the promise implicit in his words.

He didn’t respond. He just gave me a steady, even look that just sent a shiver of arousal running through me. The transition was so rapid and so effortless. One minute, he was the laughing, joking guy who was my friend. The next minute, each and every word caused desire to dance on my skin.

“This is insane, your mom could come back, the door is open,” I started, and cut myself off at the look on his face.

Decision point. I definitely wanted to sit on Liam’s lap. But actions had consequences, and one of them was to lose Liam as a friend.

“Remember,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing you can ever do or say to me that will change our friendship.”

I gaped at him. “Can you read minds?”

He just patted his lap, and I came towards him. “Good,” he said. “Sit facing away from me.” I obeyed, and he spread my legs wide, locking them into place with his knees. “Pull your skirt up.”

I was wearing a short, pleated black woolen skirt and a white cotton blouse. I’d also been wearing a sweater, but the kitchen had been warm, and I’d taken it off.

“Liam,” I protested again.

“Tia.” His voice was implacable. “I expect obedience, and I don’t like repeating myself.”

Damn it, but that was hot. I bit my lip and lifted my skirt up, and his fingers closed over mine. “I’m going to put your theory to the test,” he said. His fingers traced the edge of my panties, before sliding inside. I inhaled. He was inches from my pussy.

“What theory?” I asked, my brain addled from the lust pumping through my body.

“The theory that you need to be spanked in order to orgasm.” His voice was deep.

He hadn’t let that comment pass then; he’d just postponed the discussion to a better time, when his fingers could prove or disprove my assertion.

“Ah,” I said. I’d intended it to be a short syllable, but then his fingers took a slow swipe through my slit, and my tone pitched higher, and I moaned. “Liam.”

“I like you shouting out my name,” he said. “But you should keep your voice down. As you did point out, my mother could come back at any instant.”

I assumed that wasn’t likely, since the door to Liam’s bedroom was open, and the way I was sitting, I was facing the doorway. Instead, this was a subtle form of control.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed, and he laughed, startled, before he bent his lips onto my neck.

Another slow swipe, and he pulled his fingers away, holding them to my lips. I opened my mouth and licked my juices off his hand. “Tell me why you are wet, Tia,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

Spank. Spank. Two sharp, stinging strokes on my inside thighs. “Don’t lie to me, rabbit,” he chided.

“I’m wet because you know your way around a woman’s pussy,” I snapped.

He laughed. “Lying again. Is it so nerve-wracking to admit the truth, Tia? Because if you’d like, I’ll go first.” He kissed my neck again, and his fingers strummed my pussy expertly, pushing in while his thumb found my clitoris, and stroked it till I was a writhing, horny mess on his lap.

“Move your hands and feel my erection,” he ordered, and I complied silently.  “You want to know why I’m hard? Because I’m insanely attracted to you.”

“Liam,” I gasped. Part of me was listening to his words, but his thumb was rubbing circles around my clitoris, and I couldn’t focus. My entire body was clenching as I climbed towards release. My hands reached around, pulling his body closer to mine. I was rubbing my ass over his dick, shamelessly, as his fingers got me off. I was close. So close…

And he stopped.

“What?” I gasped. I felt betrayed. I’d almost been there. I was a mere instant away from release. I stayed, humping the air for fruitless seconds, but he’d stopped at the perfect moment. “Damn it.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. He didn’t move his hands; his strong fingers were gripping my thighs, and poised as I was, right on the edge, I felt every touch of his body so keenly. I was so aware of him.

“Fine, I’ll just finish myself off,” I huffed.

“Please do,” he said smoothly. “I’d love to watch you get yourself off.”

I hissed. I couldn’t touch myself in front of Liam. I just couldn’t. That would be too embarrassing and far too personal. “Why did you stop?” I asked plaintively.

“I’m still waiting for an answer to my question, rabbit,” he said. “Why are you wet?”

“Because I want you,” I whispered. I leaned back against his chest, and his arms curled around my waist, hugging me. “I don’t want to want you, but I do.”

“Should I settle for your reluctant desire, Tatiana?” he asked. I could feel him shake his head. “I want more. I want your active consent.” He exhaled, and gently lifted me off his lap, setting me down next to him. “You were going to ask me a question earlier, you said?”

What the heck had happened there?
I thought what I’d said would have been enough, because I had wanted him. There was no lie there. My brain spun at the startling change of direction. Then I reflected on his words. He had said that he wanted my active consent. He wanted me to choose him, not only because I needed to orgasm, but because I genuinely wanted him.

My sexual desire slowly died down, and I sat on the bed in silence, absorbing all that had happened. Finally, I spoke. “We should go to the pub, right?”

He nodded. He smiled at me, but it was strained. “Let’s go.”

***

Liam:

If my dick possessed a voice, it would have been screaming in outrage right now. I’d been so ready for her. With my fingers pressed into her folds, every inch of her soft pussy responding to me, feeling her wriggle against my cock? Oh, but it was hard to do the right thing.