Once she’s gone, Liam surprises me by grabbing my arm and pulling me down the hallway to my office. When we’re safely inside, he locks the door and shoves me against the wall in a crushing kiss. For a couple of minutes, we’re a mess of urgent, needy hands and mouths, and when he finally pulls back, we’re both panting way too loud considering there are other people in the building.
“Not seeing you every night is killing me,” he says as he cups my face. “Didn’t Anthony get the memo that I’m owed six years of Elissa time? Why the hell is he torturing me?”
All week, Liam and Angel have been putting in overtime for their PR appearances. It’s meant we’ve barely seen each other outside rehearsal, and neither of us is coping with that.
“Let me ask you this,” he asks, assessing my skinny jeans and combat boots. “How feasible would it be for me to fuck you right now? I know we have the production meeting in five minutes, but I promise, I could be done in two. Maybe less.”
I fist his T-shirt. “I’m sorry, but the standard procedure is seven minutes in heaven.”
“Not sure I can last that long. I fantasized about you all last night.”
“Wasn’t that awkward, considering you and Angel were having a very public romantic dinner? Right in the front window of one of New York’s trendiest restaurants.”
“Saw the pics, did you?”
“Of course. How convenient the paps knew you’d be there. I assume Anthony tipped them off? That kiss was very believable, by the way. And seemed to go on forever.”
“The funny thing is, our mouths weren’t even touching. I put my head in front of hers and then pretended to kiss her while we had a conversation about how to get you into my apartment without anyone seeing you. Eventually we decided you’re small enough to fit in a suitcase. We can load you into the car here, then get you to my penthouse through the service lift in the garage. We also planned a citywide chase scene in which paps on motorbikes swarm us before dying in horrible ways. On a related topic, don’t ever piss off Angel, or she’ll invent a grisly end for you, which will include having to sit through a Broadway musical composed entirely for banjos and bagpipes. I mean, no one deserves that sort of torture. Not even paps.”
“You spoke about all that while you were pretending to kiss?”
“We’re multitaskers.”
“Prove it.”
He kisses me again, and what he’s doing with his hands at the same time makes me seriously consider taking him up on his offer of two minutes in heaven. He’s undoing the top of my jeans when there’s a sharp knock at the door.
“Elissa? You in there? It’s Anthony.” We jump away from each other at the sound of Anthony’s voice. The door rattles. “Hello?”
I straighten myself up as Liam looks around for somewhere to hide. I shove him behind the door, then unlock it and open it a crack.
“Anthony, hey. What can I do for you?”
Anthony looks over my head and frowns. “You okay? Why is your door locked?”
“Uh . . . I’m on the phone. With my . . . gynecologist.” I inwardly cringe, but what else can I say that won’t invite further questions? “Did you need something?”
He hands me a piece of paper. “Just wondering if you could photocopy this agenda for our meeting.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“And have you seen Liam? I thought I heard him arrive a few minutes ago, but now I can’t find him.”
A warm, giant hand closes over my left boob, which is thankfully hidden by the door. My eyelids flutter as Liam gently kneads my nipple. “Uh . . . um . . . no. I haven’t. Seen him, I mean. He’s here. I saw him arrive. But I don’t know where he is now.” Liam’s other hand cups my ass. A breath gushes out of me.
Anthony looks at me with concern. “Elissa, is everything all right? I hope the phone call isn’t bad news.”
Liam slides the hand that was on my boob down between my legs and massages me in the most arousing way possible.
“No,” I say, and my voice breaks. “Everything’s great. Down there. Uh . . .” I wave the piece of paper he gave me. “So, I’ll photocopy this for you and see you in the meeting in a couple of minutes, okay? K, bye.”
I close the door, then lean back against it as Liam continues to work his magic.
“At least not everything you said was a lie,” he whispers, and his lips brush the shell of my ear. “Everything is great down there. So fucking great I want to rip these jeans off you and bend you over your desk.”
“You’ve evil,” I moan.
He presses harder, and I stop breathing. “Then it seems you have a thing for evil.”
“I do. Oh, God. I really, really do.”
I’m squeezing my eyes closed and waiting for my orgasm to hit when suddenly Liam takes his hands off me and steps back. I open my eyes and stare at him in shock.
“But here’s what true evil looks like: You need to do your photocopies and then we need to go. Anthony will be pissed if we’re late.”
I take a moment to realize he’s serious about depriving me of my orgasm, then I shove him in the chest. “You’re mean!”
He chuckles as I turn away and run off copies of Anthony’s meeting agenda.