I couldn't help myself. The curiosity gnawed at me like a restless itch. I hesitated for a moment, glancing at Liam to make sure he was still asleep, then clicked on the text.
"Hope you are still on track with my painting. I'm getting it tomorrow."
Relief washed over me like a tidal wave, and I let out a shaky breath. It was harmless. A painting. Nothing sinister. My paranoia had gotten the better of me.
I quickly set the phone back down, careful not to make a sound, and moved to gather a few clothes from the chair in the corner. My heart was still racing, but now for a different reason. I couldn't stay here tonight. I needed answers, and I knew exactly where to get them.
With a silent determination, I slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. The city lights guided me as I hailed a cab and gave the address to Hunter's estate.
Hunter opened the door himself, his expression one of mild surprise, quickly replaced by that signature charm. "Evelyn," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "What a pleasant surprise."
I stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, my pulse quickening as the warmth of his home enveloped me. "I had to see you," I said, keeping my tone light yet suggestive.
His eyes sparkled with amusement. "At this hour? Should I be flattered?"
I gave him a coy smile, letting him think this was all part of the game. It was, wasn't it? I wasn't here for him—I was here for what he could give me. Answers. Opportunities.
We talked for a while, the conversation flowing effortlessly as always. He had a way of making me feel like the most interesting person in the room, even when I knew it was all part of his own agenda.
But then his tone shifted, softening as he moved closer. "You're full of surprises, Evelyn," he murmured, his voice low. "I like that."
The space between us seemed to shrink, and before I could overthink it, his hand brushed my arm, sending a spark through me. He leaned in, his lips hovering near mine, waiting for permission.
I should've stopped him. I should've thought about Liam, about the plan, about everything at stake. But I didn't. Instead, I tilted my head and let him kiss me.
His lips were warm and demanding, and for a moment, I let myself forget the lies, the schemes, the secrets.
The room was a mess—clothes scattered across the floor, a testament to what had just happened. I lay there beside Hunter, catching my breath as silence wrapped around us. His arm rested lazily over me, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the quiet.
Hunter broke it first. "Don't go back," he said, his voice soft but firm. His fingers traced circles on my arm, as if trying to anchor me there. "Stay here. You don't need him, Evelyn. Whatever this game is, let it end here."
I turned my head to face him, his dark eyes searching mine. "I can't," I said quietly, sitting up. "You know I can't."
His jaw tightened, and he propped himself up on one elbow. "Why? Is it the money? The plan? Or is it him?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, I slipped out of the bed, grabbing my scattered clothes. The cool fabric of my dress felt foreign against my skin as I slid it back on. I avoided his gaze, not wanting to see the disappointment I knew was there.
"Evelyn," he said, his tone laced with frustration, but I cut him off with a small smile.
"I'll see you soon," I whispered, grabbing my bag, putting my dress back on and I headed for the door.
The ride back to Liam's apartment was tense, though I was alone in the cab. My thoughts were racing, my emotions a whirlwind I couldn't quite tame. I needed to compose myself before I walked in.
When I unlocked the door, Liam was already there, pacing the living room like a storm ready to erupt. His eyes snapped to me the second I entered, his expression a mix of fury and hurt.
"Where the hell were you?" he demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air.
I didn't give him a chance to continue. Dropping my bag to the floor, I crossed the room in quick strides and grabbed his face, pressing my lips to his in a sudden, desperate kiss.
He froze for a second, caught off guard, before his hands found my waist. The tension in his body melted, replaced by something softer, something I could use.
When I finally pulled back, I looked into his eyes and forced a smile. "I needed some air," I said, my voice light, as if nothing had happened.
Liam stared at me, his expression unreadable.
Liam's hands gripped my waist firmly, pulling me closer before I could step away. His lips crushed against mine, desperate and unrelenting. It wasn't a soft kiss; it was raw, filled with frustration, longing, and something I couldn't name. His fingers slid up my back, tangling in my hair as if afraid I'd slip away again.
I didn't resist. Instead, I gave in. My hands found his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. His kiss deepened, his lips moving with a hunger that matched the fire coursing through me. His breath was warm against my skin, his stubble grazing my face as he tilted my head, deepening the connection.
For ten long minutes, the world around us disappeared. There was only the taste of him, the feel of his hands roaming my body, and the desperate rhythm of our kiss. It was chaotic and messy, but neither of us seemed to care.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless. His forehead rested against mine as we tried to catch our breaths, the air between us charged with electricity.
"I love you," Liam whispered, his voice soft but steady, his eyes searching mine.
My heart skipped a beat, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words back. I stared at him, my lips parting slightly, but no sound came out.
"It's okay," he said quickly, his tone gentler now. "You don't have to say it back."
I looked away, unsure of what to do or say. His words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly lost
Before I could take a step back, Liam's hands gripped my shoulders firmly, his strength undeniable as he gently but insistently pushed me back toward the bed. My knees buckled as they hit the edge, and I fell backward onto the mattress.
"Liam—" I started, my voice barely above a whisper, but he was already hovering over me, his weight pressing into the bed, his face inches from mine.
"You drive me insane, Evelyn," he said, his voice rough, his breath hot against my cheek. "One minute you're here, the next you're gone. And now you're kissing me like that and pulling away again."
His eyes searched mine, dark and filled with emotions I couldn't untangle. Anger? Frustration? Desire? All of it seemed to swirl together, overwhelming me.
"I didn't mean—" I began, but he silenced me with a finger against my lips.
"Don't lie to me," he murmured. "Not about this."
His finger slid away, replaced by his lips once more, softer this time, slower. He kissed me all over my body desperately, breathing hard as though he had all the time in the world, as though he was savoring every second.
I should have stopped him. I should have pushed him away and told him this was all wrong, that I couldn't afford to get caught up in whatever this was. But I didn't.
Instead, I let him. I let myself get lost in the moment, in the warmth of his touch, in the way his hands caressed my skin as though I were something fragile and precious.
"Evelyn," he whispered against my lips, his voice raw and unguarded. "I need to know. Are you staying this time?"
I swallowed hard, unable to answer.
The reality hit me like a wave. As I lay there, our clothes scattered around us in a chaotic mess, the air heavy with the remnants of our actions, I couldn't help but think, What have I done?
A strange mix of guilt and disbelief flooded my chest. I glanced at Liam, who was lying next to me, his breathing still uneven, his eyes closed as if he were savoring the moment. He looked... content. But I didn't feel that way. The knot in my stomach tightened, and I couldn't shake the thought: I just had a one-night stand with Liam—and Hunter. I'm such a whore.