CHAPTER 16
I'm flabbergasted by Liam's proposition. He could just pin me by the wall and do whatever he wants . . . but painting? Was I an enemy of the state in my previous life? I just scoff, staring at him stupefied.
"You really want me to paint?" Like a fool I try ascertaining.
"Can you not?" Liam prompt. I'm sure he's challenging me considering the sight of his mocking eyes. "Tell me, Ms. Jones, can you not?" He smiles with pure provocation.
Damn him!
"Of course I can. How hard can it be?" I retort proudly, so sure of myself. My subconscious scowls as it's quite apparent that I know next to nothing about painting. Well, there is first time in everything.
Liam smiles brightly, and looks utterly breathtaking in his blue plaid shirt and some black washed bout jeans. And I think I love his cowboy look; it has its charms.
Hesitantly, Peter hands me the painting brush he’s been holding. "Are you sure about this, Ms. Kira?" he asks me kindly . . . almost sorry.
"Don't worry, Peter, I've got this." My gaze refuses leaving Liam's blue eyes that shine bright like the sky above us.
"You can leave us now. Just do not forget to pick the things I asked you for," Liam tells Peter instructively.
"Yes, sir," Peter replies with a nod. In a few minutes he and Julian disappear, leaving Liam and I alone.
"Are you ready, Ms. Jones?" He now looks aesthetically pleased having me under his leash. There’s no escape now, is there?
"I was born ready, Mr. Darcy!" I snort with confidence, ready to face his challenge. "Let's do it." I lead the way towards the barn.
"With pleasure," Liam murmurs, and his steps follow me suit.
The barn looks bigger on the inside. The only thing inside are the haystacks in the middle, just a few, the cans of painting color, and the ladder. The smell of fresh paint wafts my nose as we walk in. Half of the barn is done already, leaving only a small part. Thank God.
"It’s done like this." Liam gives me a very close demonstration after a short while, standing right next to me.
“Like this?” I follow his move, grazing the drenched brush on the surface of the rough wood.
Liam nods his smooth assent, but holds my hand and leads my moves. Oh boy! How do I concentrate like this? His chest behind my back, body to body . . . the feel is so alluring for my poor heart. I clear my throat, trying had to find my focus.
”Now you can do it, right?” Liam asks, and his deep voice is nothing but a torture.
“Mhh,” I hum gently, and he moves slowly out of my back. A deep sigh finds its way out of my lungs. “Why do you paint the inside?" I start painting on my own, Liam doing the same.
"Just to seal the wood, and avoid the fungi when it gets humid," he answers.
"I see," I utter.
I’m starting to regret. I mean, maybe I underestimated this a little; it's certainly not as easy as it seems when someone else does it. Bead of sweat form on my forehead and it's been less than thirty minutes. Liam seems very experienced that I'm so amazed, yet I can’t fee my arms.
Also, I wonder why he is doing this anyway. Evidently it's so easy for someone like him to leave the job to his workers, yet he's been personally fixing and painting the barn with Peter since morning.
I halt a bit, to wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, while staring at Liam with no discretion. He's fast, yet calm . . . and even stoic as he makes his moves. I'm drooling over him, and he quickly notices.
He huffs a small laugh at my expense, and I'm sure he's making fun of my flawed-skills. Either way, I refuse to back off, so I take a deep breath, and keep the task going.
"Giving up already?" He beams, making a short pause to snatch something from the jeans of his pocket.
"Me? Never!” I retort.
Smiling, Liam says, “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that I used it.” He’s referring at the handkerchief he’s holding. “You can step out and get some fresh air,” he suggests.
“No, it’s okay. I just can't reach farther than this," I reply with my best excuse of my height.
Without saying more, Liam pulls me the adjustable ladder.
"You can use this." He sweetly, but sardonically, offers me.
"Thank you very much," I utter between my gritted teeth.
Can't he just understand the lady's language? No can mean a yes, and vice versa is true. He smiles wittingly, and I know he understands my scheme.
He just enjoys the sight of my pretense.
"Do you realize physical activities can cure insomnia?" he says, making my eyes roll.
"Really?" I grab that very same handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans and wipe my face off. Hmm, the smell of his skin, cologne, mixed with . . . sweat? I don’t even care, for it’s probably my favorite by now.
"Yes, they say it's only a condition for the rich," Liam says, ignoring my gesture after a fleeting surprise in his eyes.
Maybe he's right, but I wonder how much my bank account reads to place myself into the rich people category. But well, he's not far from the truth. I kind of sleep soundly whenever I overwork myself with the physical activities than the mental one.
"Then I hope I'll sleep very well tonight." My tone is full of sarcasm as I say this.
"I'm sure you will." Liam chuckles.
Mr. Intense chuckling? Such a rare scene. Speaking of sleeping, I begin to wonder when he left my room this morning.
"Did you sleep well last night?" I try to pry.
He takes his time responding, eyes on the painting he’s doing. "Not as much as you did, but it was memorable," he says, and I blush. The guy has a way with words. "Although it was a bit had not being able to—“ He clears his throat, glancing at me with a blush.
"Do what?" I encourage him to go on.
"I was about to use some vulgar language," he says with a sigh, and I almost burst into a laughter. What a classic dude! "But I've realized it's improper to say such a thing to you."
My God! Did he time-travel from Victorian era or something? I laugh at last.
"I don't think I'm such a fine lady that I'd mind hearing you speaking vulgarly," I utter with a feigned innocence, my wildest side unraveling itself.
Liam laughs aloud, seemingly amused by the minutes. "Your ways of digging for information surely fascinates me, Ms. Jones." He glances down at me with a smiley face.
"I still want to hear it, and I quite appreciate the remark." I try to weaver my gaze from his by clutching the brush properly.
"Very well," Liam says, sighing as though he's about to disclose his most embarrassing secret. I stay attentive, my focus back on him. "I had a very hard time last night."
Oh. "Why?" I urge.
He releases a soft smile. "Because all I could think of was how alluring your body looked," he says gently.
"Um—“ I almost choke on my saliva or whatever. I think I've turned into a beetroot thinking of this little information.
"I wanted to fu—“ Liam pauses as I suddenly trip and almost fall from the ladder. What the heck! Thanks to Liam's quick reflexes I'm caught right on time.
The thud in my heart multiplies, unsure if it's from the accident I almost had or from the pair of stormy eyes gliding between my lips and eyes. I gulp.
"Ms. Jones, are you always this clumsy?" he asks me in a low, hypnotizing voice, his smile mocking.
"I think only when Mr. Darcy is around," I whisper. My mind seems inactive, baffled into the sphere of his sexy, inviting lips.
Good Lord! Do I want to kiss him?
"You're always questing for trouble, aren't you?" he breathes. His eyes are currently gleaming lasciviously, same effect he has on me is pertained in him.
How lovely! The devil in me is enthralled.
"I guess trouble seems to love me more than I desire," I remark coolly, devouring his tight brace with our faces only an inch apart.
Liam smirks, and damn it's more of a provocation. My breath turns ragged, disturbing the perilous hormones. I wet my lips, and his start moving toward mine.
Oh boy!
He knows I want him, and I'm sure he feels the same. He's just too gentle to make a haste move. Without knowledge, I drop the painting brush on the floor which ends up breaking the spell.
What the fuck! I glare begrudgingly at the floor and the magic is over.
Totally over.
"You should take a rest, I'll finish this quick." Liam drops me to my feet instantly, a smile lingering in his face.
Is he making fun of me? I glower inside as he gets back to painting. I'm not taking this! I opt to ignore his protest, follow my instinct. I lunge towards him like a buffalo and take him with great surprise. He
"Or maybe we both could use a break." I spin him and my arms enwrap his neck. He tenses but does nothing to object. My lips crash hard onto his, my manners thrown down the drain.
Who are you? My subconscious gapes at me and I don't know the answer.
Fortunately Liam accepts me wholeheartedly, gripping the small of my back and tugs me onto him. He pants heavily, stirred, his body flexing to hold me perfectly. Boy, it feels unearthly.
Our tongues intertwine to the point that I start losing myself. I feel a foreign flutter in my flesh and body, some smoldering fire in similar color with sexual desires. If it's love or lust, I can't tell. I simply want more.
Still kissing me, his lips relentless, Liam leads me towards the hays, dry grasses crunch as we step on them. I couldn't care less, I'm already drowning.
I'm pinned against the barn wall, unpainted part, the hard wood against my back. It should hurt but it doesn't. I should feel scared, worried, or a bit hesitant to make out in such a place but strangely I don't.
Liam pins my hands above the head, his frame towering my height. I tip my neck aside, letting him kiss me more fiercely, demandingly. Oh, I love it.
His lips slide from my neck to my cleavages, swiftly, forcing a moan out of me. God! I rasp, the pleasure quite incessant, driving me insane. I writhe in his command, but he holds me still with his weight.
Fuck, I love this game!
"You drive me crazy, Ms. Jones," he breathes hoarsely, gracing me a glance. He looks intoxicated and I feel victorious.
"I didn't know," I tease panting wildly as his fingers caress my back, nakedly touching my skin underneath the fabric of my shirt.
"I really wanted to resist," he says under his breath while reclaiming my lips. I didn't ask you to, did I? "I tried my best."
"And who told you to resist, huh?" I utter coquettishly as I watch his emotionally wrecked face, full of desires; desires over me.
"So full of yourself, aren't you, Kira?" He laughs cynically, and I subtly gape.
Did he just call me by my first name? Kira? Not Ms. Jones?
"As much as I desire to be with you right now, I still won't touch you, Kira. Not in this place," he mutters while playing with my hair, staring deeply into my eyes.
I'm stuck between my needs and his statement. Of course he's not going to fuck me in the barn! Yeah, I saw it coming but why is my shameless self a bit disappointed?
Because you're officially a hoe? My subconscious mumbles.
"I know. But I still want to kiss you," I blurt out, nuzzling his stubble while clinging onto his neck. I look up at him, and his smile melts my heart.
Jeez, am I falling in love or what? It feels like a million stars by just being with him.
"And I want to kiss you more," he adds softly, taking my face in his palms. He suddenly takes a deep breath, a feel of overwhelm engulfing his face.
"What's wrong?" I whisper.
"How I want to take you far from here, right now," he articulates in a serious manner. I beam at him. "Would you—“
We suddenly hear a startling sound, cutting the moment. I think someone is approaching.
"Liam?" It's Sam's voice coming from right outside. "Liam, are you there?" she repeats again, louder this time.
Oh my God! I gasp inwardly.
My blood pressure drops when I hear Sam's voice getting closer and closer. A cold sweat flows down my temple. Liam is still holding me without making any move. He looks unperturbed, unlike me.
It's totally impossible to know when exactly he freaks out.
"It's Sam," I whisper in a very low voice. "What do we do?" I'm frantically trembling in his arms.
"We should just tell her. I told you so already, didn't I?" He smiles nonchalantly.
What the heck!
"Are you serious?" I query, half-annoyed. I'm looking at him$ yet I can't believe he has the audacity to say such a thing.
He finally sighs out disappointedly. "I did not expect doing this at my age," he says, and I quirk a questioning eyebrow. "You're making me do the shittiest things, Kira."
"What?" I swear I could laugh aloud if it weren't for the moment. "You know . . . just go!" I push him forward, and he laughs soundlessly.
"I'll go talk to her. You'll probably need to take care of that first." He points at my chest in a playful manner, my two buttons undone.
"Hooligan," I murmur, smiling shyly.
What am I doing?