Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (13 page)

The hotel, the
Avignon,
was stunning. Soaring ceilings, stained glass, rich oriental rugs. It was pure Southern opulence. “Wow,” I said to John as we stood in the lobby for a second, waiting to check in.

“I know, right?” John asked. “I’ll bring you back here sometime, under more normal circumstances.” He smiled at me and the butterflies started swooping around.

Things were looking up. Catherine had behaved, without cuffs, during check-in. I’d nodded my approval at her as she went into the elevator with the guys.
Neiman Marcus,
I mouthed to her, and gave her a thumbs-up
.

“What was that?” John asked, after the doors closed.

I just shook my head at him. “Nothing,” I said.

When we got to our room I let out a sigh of relief.
Alone.
The stress of the ride started to ebb out of me in the privacy of our own space. John went to take a shower and I sat on the big, comfy bed. “What time are we meeting my sister?” I asked, looking at the clock. It was already almost eight.

“Nine,” John called. “She’s probably not even checked in yet.”

“She’s here? At our hotel?” I asked. All of a sudden, the stress was back — but I had to admit, I was excited. I was still pissed, and I was nervous to see her, but the excitement was predominant.
My sister! Finally!

“I booked her across the street,” John said. “Just in case you needed some space.”

“Can we put Catherine over there, too?” I asked, and I heard him snort in laughter from the bathroom.

“I wish,” he said, and turned the water on.

I took the opportunity to call room service. The 3x3 burger I had for lunch and the upcoming fried chicken dinner be damned — I was starving. I also needed a drink before I saw Sasha. I had to calm down. I ordered a bottle of white wine and the Baked Tennessee Mac n Cheese, roasted shrimp and Sweet Onion Bisque (which mentioned something about bacon in the description).
Mmmmm, bacon.
Anything with bacon was good. My mouth started watering while I ordered.

The waiter showed up just as John came into the room, steam trailing behind him, with a towel slung low around his hips. My mouth dropped open at the sight of him.
Yummy
, I thought, and for a second I didn’t care about the food at all.

John looked at me and smiled, but there was a smolder, a need behind the smile that I recognized. My heart rate picked up. Ridiculously, I felt myself spread my legs and stick my chest out at him: stripper pose.

You’re such a predictable ho,
my inner voice said.

“Madam. Sir,” said the waiter, looking between the two of us. He set out the wine and food and backed as quickly as he could out of the room.

“What did you order?” John asked. There was a husky edge to his voice that made a wave of pure heat roll through me.

“That,” I said, and I jauntily pointed to where he was covering himself with the towel. We both laughed and I poured us some wine. I took a quick sip. I was nervous, all of a sudden. I let out a shaky breath and laughed again.

“Are you nervous about seeing your sister?” he asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Among other things.” I wasn’t sure if I remembered what to do with him — it all seemed like a long time ago, and it had happened so fast.

“Come here,” John said, not moving from where he stood.

I went to him. He clasped the back of my neck with one hand, gently pulling me against his chest. He kissed my face softly. I moved against him, feeling his heat, the closeness of him. I put my glass down and put both hands on his gorgeous, rock-hard chest.
He was so big.
It thrilled me, to have him standing over me, kissing me urgently.
My protector. My hero.
He was larger than life to me — his biceps, his pectoral muscles, that little indent on each side of his stomach that ran parallel to his hips — I ran my hands down all of it, looking up at him, relishing the beauty and strength of his body.

Mine
, I thought — I hoped, I wished — with all my heart.

He let go of the towel; it dropped to the floor and he twined both of his hands through my hair, crushing his lips to me. Then I could feel all of him pressing against me. We moved rhythmically, our bodies taking over, remembering each other. All my fear and nervousness drained away. All I could feel was the heat, the pulse, of our need for each other.

He pulled back for a second. He looked at me intensely. “I can’t be away from you ever again,” he said. He kissed me, tenderly, and then pulled back again. “I don’t ever want you out of my sight,” he said, and kissed me again. He pulled back. I felt dizzy.

“I can’t live without you,” he whispered, and then closed his mouth over me, claiming me. Then he pulled back again.

“I love you,” he said. We looked at each other for a beat and I held my breath.
“Don’t ever leave me again.”
He gently guided me onto the bed, kissing me, and I could feel his need in his kisses. He took my clothes off gently. I could hear myself breathing hard.

“I love you,” I said, and looked up at him. “I’m yours.”

He kissed me again and I arched my back and tried to pull him onto me. He laid down carefully, his whole body hovering over me for a moment. I felt covered by him, protected. Then he lifted himself off and ran his hands lightly up and down my body, so tenderly my eyes filled with tears. He leaned down and gently traced his lips up and down the inside of my arms, over the newly-forming scars. He ran his hands gently over my ribs. He looked up at me and his eyes burned brightly — with need, but also with pain. He leaned over and covered my body with soft kisses, brushing his lips tenderly over me. Then he kissed me again, pulling me up, and held me to him.

As I sat on his lap I could feel all of him, long and hard and needing me, needing release. He kissed my breasts and stroked my back, gently. I moved so that he was pressed in between my legs, and I rubbed my wetness back and forth along his length. With each stroke, I needed him more. We were both panting, moaning. I slid myself against him, again and again, until I was shaking with need. Then I moved myself onto his tip, positioning us, and then slowly all the way down, to his hilt, letting him fill me completely. I cried out in shock, pleasure and relief.
It felt so good to have him in me.
All the way in.
My eyes filled with tears; I was overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, mixed with desire and pleasure and relief. He flexed his hips and pulsed like into me for a moment, slowly and gently.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and I opened my eyes. “Look into my eyes.” I did as he continued his gentle thrusts into me, making my body quake. His eyes locked to mine and they told me everything I could ever want to know. “I love you,” he said, thrusting slightly more urgently, building up to it gently. “You are
mine.
” I closed my eyes again as I cried out in pleasure and he started to move into me harder, then stopped. He was breathing hard. “Is this okay?” he asked. “Am I hurting you?”

I opened my eyes. “I’m not hurt,” I said, wild with need for him. “I love you, John. Now please — don’t stop!”

He laughed and kissed me again, and I could feel the joy and relief between us. He flipped me onto my back and slid in and out of me, still gently, but with an urgency that made me moan. As he picked up the pace his breathing became more labored, and I could tell he was close, but trying to hold back. Each thrust into me brought me to edge, making me dizzy, making the world beautifully blurry. “Come in me,” I whispered, cupping has ass lovingly and pulling him all the way into me. He leaned up and pulsed for a minute, all the way in, and then I felt my body shaking in climax around him.

“You. Are.
Mine,
” he said, as he pulled out and thrust back into me, exploding. I screamed in pleasure.

Afterwards, we laid still that for a while, as the room got darker and darker.

“I just want to make one thing clear,” he said, still lying mostly on top of me. “I need to know something,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“That you believe I love you.” He rolled off me.

“Don’t!” I said as he pulled out of me, missing him instantly. He just brought me onto his chest and played with my hair.

“I believe you,” I said. He’d followed me to (and around) Mexico…he hadn’t let go of me since…I believe he believed he loved me. I still felt like it was too good to be true.

“When you left, I had a bad feeling that it was because you didn’t trust me, didn’t trust that what I was telling you was real,” he said.

I sighed. “John, it was more that I was worried that you were going to figure out that I wasn’t perfect, and wasn’t good enough for you. And that sooner or later, you were going to come to your senses.”

“I have been perfectly in control of my senses — at least most of them — since I met you. I love you. It’s not going to change. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, babe,” he said.

“Really?” I asked. My voice was thick. “
Really?
But why? Why me?”

“There are so many reasons…but the simplest one is this. I met you, and everything changed from that moment on. I’ve never felt a pull toward someone like I felt for you. And you were so wonderful, from the very beginning…I need you to believe it,” he said. He put his hand over my heart and kissed me. My head started to spin and I felt wet, hot, almost immediately. Again.

I tried to climb on top of him, but he gently pushed me off.

“We have to get ready,” he said. “We have to meet your sister.”

Oh shit. That had totally slipped my mind — which was pretty amazing, given the circumstances.

“Okay,” I said. I sat up quickly. I stopped for a second; I felt positively dizzy. There was too much love and lust and nervous energy buzzing around inside me. He pulled me back down.

“Wait for just a minute,” he said, cradling me to him, stroking my back. He kissed my hair, making me feel all warm and fuzzy and lustful again.

“I meant what I said, Liberty. I don’t want us to ever be apart again.”

My heart started pounding. “I know,” I said, looking up at him. “I meant it, too.”

“Okay,” he said, and he smiled at me. “So no more disappearing acts.”

“But do you understand why I did it?” I asked.

He looked at me thoughtfully. “I know you wanted to help me,” he said, slowly. “I’m guessing that you wanted to try to pay me back, or something ridiculous like that. For finding Ray.”

“Well,” I said, considering, “that was part of it. I guess.” He waited for me to collect my scattered thoughts. “I did feel like I needed to pay you back — for helping me. You came to Vegas and you found me. I didn’t know about the connection with my father at the time, but since I met you…it opened up a whole new world to me.”
Not only did I fall in love for the first time, you showed me what it’s like to want something more. To have hope for the future.

I exhaled; I decided to be honest. Completely, totally honest. It was now or never.

“You have a lot more money than I’ll ever have —”

“Liberty, don’t be ridiculous!” he said, sitting up beside me, but I held up my hand.

“Let me finish,” I said. “It’s not about the money. It’s about life experiences. You’re a professional. You’ve travelled the world. You’re older than me, you’ve had a child. You’ve had models for girlfriends,” I said, smirking up at him.

He shot me an annoyed look. I frowned and kept trying to explain. “I just felt like we were never going to be equals. And I wanted that — I
want
that,” I said. “I don’t want it to be that you’re doing all the giving, all the teaching, all the time. I want to give something back to you. And it’s impossible. You’re impossible.”

I got up, grabbed my wine and flopped back down beside him. I traced the lines under his muscles on his chest.
Delicious. Mmmmm. But I couldn’t think about that right now.
“There’s only one thing you didn’t have,” I said.

“Catherine,” he said.

“Catherine,” I said.

“And you,” he said, running his hand down my face. “I want you. You have no idea how much.”

“Well, I
do
know, actually. Because that’s how much I want you.”

He sighed. “You wanted to find her because it would give you some kind of equilibrium with me,” he said. “Which I think is ridiculous. But you risked your life because it was so important to you.” There was a touch of awe in his voice.

“That isn’t all of it,” I said, wary now. The post-sex glow was still with me, but it was fading.
Crud,
I thought.
He didn’t want to hear this — not now, maybe not ever.

I took a deep breath. “There’s something else, something I realized when we captured Ray,” I said. “It was that no matter what he’d done, I wanted to put it behind me. I didn’t want the trouble with me anymore.” I took another long sip of wine and then handed John my glass so he could have some.

“I didn’t want that to be the rest of my life — being angry at him, being angry at my mom. I don’t need revenge,” I said, shrugging.
I realized that all I wanted was you and our three imaginary babies and an unmade bed and Sunday morning pancakes and family movie night
, I thought,
all the things that people think are normal, pedestrian, boring. I don’t want an exciting life filled with intrigue, assignments, hostages and guns. I want a no-need-of-a-firing-range kind of life.