A Tangled Web - R.G. Alexander Page 0,5

ass cheek before gripping her hip again, and that unexpected jolt was enough to send her over. “Oh God.”

She buried her face in his neck and hung on for dear life, muffling her shouts against him as her climax hit her hard. If she let go, she’d be lost, dragged under by the force of the current. She moaned feverishly as Liam stroked her thighs, soothing her through every aftershock until she was leaning weakly against him.

“So good,” she heard the muffled praise as he pressed his lips to her hair. “That was so good, Dani.”

Too good.

She blinked away her blurred vision, tears dripping down her cheeks. That was new, too.

He’d barely touched her and she’d come hard enough to cry. How had she lived this long without knowing what an actual orgasm felt like? How could she ever go back to those small, unsatisfying self-induced quakes when she knew she could have more with Liam?

She’d done that with Liam. To Liam.

“You still with me?” His voice was thick with lust and her body instinctively reacted, already eager to submit to the man whose erection was thick and hard against her. Still needing a release that she desperately wanted to give him.

What was she doing?

“Dani?” He leaned back to look down at her face before swearing under his breath. “No. Stop. Whatever you’re thinking—”

But she was already shaking her head, pushing away from him and reaching for the pajama top she’d tossed on the floor to hold against herself. Anything to cover up her shame.

Too late.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know—I mean obviously I know, I just—I’m sorry.”

“Dani!”

“I swear there was a spider!” she called back, running like the devil was on her heels. The image of him standing there, cheeks flushed and every muscle in his body flexing in restraint burned into her brain as she raced down the hall and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

She caught her breath, listening to him pacing in the hallway for a moment before his footsteps disappeared down the stairs. He wouldn’t push her. He wasn’t that kind of man. Even if she did deserve a, “What the fuck?” at the very least for her behavior.

She pressed her forehead against the door and groaned. She was such a mess. A blind, naïve, foolish mess.

Talk about hiding his light under a bushel. Liam had been hiding the equivalent of the damned sun. Clark Kent had gone full sexual Superman, and she hadn’t been ready for it.

Who could have been ready for that? And who would’ve expected him to aim that kind of passionate fire power in her direction?

Everyone but you.

She couldn’t deny it now, though she’d been trying for months. Whenever she was asked—and she was asked all the time because for some reason, everyone in town had the wrong idea about them being a couple—she told people she loved Liam like a brother.

A brother, for God’s sake.

It was a convenient lie, and the only way she could think of putting a stop to the endless curiosity. The truth was, she couldn’t find the right way to explain their relationship without people getting the wrong idea.

They were more than roommates. They were best friends that spent all their free time together. He was the most important person in her life and yes, she loved him unconditionally. But they’d never dated. Never kissed. Despite everything they’d been through together, Dani had managed not to step on that landmine for years. Until now.

It had taken weeks of dreams, more than a year of abstinence and whatever temporary insanity had happened in that bathroom for that dam to break, and damn, had it broken. That wasn’t just a kiss. She’d basically accosted him and humped his leg.

How would she ever be able to look him in the eyes again?

A year ago, all that mattered was getting away from her ex and staying safe. Sex had done nothing but get her into trouble and leave her unsatisfied. It wasn’t worth what it cost her. She couldn’t let herself forget that.

Walking on shaky legs, she opened the top drawer of her dresser, pushing underwear aside until she saw the paperwork she’d put there earlier. It had shown up in her PO box a few days ago, and it was all there. A new last name. A new social security number and birth certificate. A new life.

The person she used to be—the shy nurse who put most of every paycheck into savings for a tomorrow that never came—that