Wicked Heart (7 page)

“I was.”

“And yet, you didn’t love her?”

He shrugs. “We got along well. The sex was fine. That was enough for me.” He turns to me, and the lights from the projection across the street sparkle in his eyes. “I figure
that when my true love comes along, I’ll know. I mean, look at my mom and dad. They met on the subway forty-five years ago. Even though it was love at first sight for both of them, they went
their separate ways at the end of the line and didn’t see each other again for
six
years. Then, they literally ran into each other in the middle of Central Park. Out of all the
people in New York, they ended up finding each other. If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”

“Yes, but you said it yourself: Your parents are the exception. It doesn’t happen like that for most people.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says as he gazes at me. “Look at what happened tonight. Out of all the women in New York, I found you.”

I give him a skeptical brow. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not the first woman you’ve flirted with on those steps?”

“Wrong,” he says. “Never done it before. Still not sure why I did it tonight.” There’s mischief in his eyes, so I have no idea if he’s telling the truth or
not.

“I see,” I say. “So you’re saying you fell in love with me at first sight?”

He leans forward. “Maybe. Meet me in the middle of Central Park in six years, and I’ll let you know for sure.”

We stare at each other for long seconds, and the urge to kiss him is crazy strong.

“You have the most beautiful lips I’ve ever seen,” he whispers. My lips tingle just from his words. I put my hand over them to make them stop. That makes him smile. “And
I find it sexy as hell that every time I’ve said something nice to you tonight, your cheeks have turned bright pink. It makes me wonder why you’re so embarrassed to receive compliments.
I’m sure men tell you how gorgeous you are all the time.”

I press my hand to my rapidly heating face. I’d be lying if I denied receiving compliments regularly, and usually I’m confident enough to take them graciously. But Liam has the power
to turn me into a blushing freak, and I find that very uncool.

“Can we please change the subject?” I say. “Blushing isn’t my favorite thing to do, and if you keep talking about my lips, it’s going to keep happening.”

“Fine by me.” When I glare at him, he chuckles. “Okay, then, let’s talk about why you don’t believe in fate. Or love at first sight. Or any of that romantic stuff
most girls subscribe to. What’s the story?” Subject change or not, he’s still staring at my mouth.

“No story. Statistics tell us that true love is a myth, and I haven’t seen anything to prove otherwise.”

He brings his gaze up to mine, and I can’t believe how beautiful his eyes are. Green-blue with a dark navy ring around the outside. I’ve never seen anything like them.

“Sounds reasonable, but I’m sensing there’s more to it. So, you can either level with me voluntarily, or I’ll be forced to get the information through
less-than-gentlemanly means, and trust me when I say I would
really
enjoy that.”

Okay, now he’s just flat-out trying to destroy my composure, and I’m horrified it’s working.

“It’s really not that interesting,” I say, looking down at my hands. “Let’s just say that if I had a business card, it would read
‘Elissa Holt, Preparer
of Men for Other Women.’
”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve had a handful of boyfriends, and they’ve all dumped me to be with someone else. Every one. It’s possible I’m cursed.”

I look up to see him watching me thoughtfully. “I see. And where did you meet these mentally incompetent jackasses?”

“In drama club,” I say with a laugh. “They were all actors, and they all left me for their leading ladies.”

“Ahh, that explains your earlier reaction. So now you think all actors are bastards?”

A ghost of past heartache twinges in my chest. “No. Just the ones I fall in love with. So now, I have a no-actor rule. It’s working out great so far.”

He’s silent for a moment, and then says, “Okay—I get it,” before turning to stare across the street.

We’re silent for a while, and when his shoulder brushes against mine, I close my eyes and sigh.

Okay, great. He’s gorgeous, arrogant, and spends hundreds of dollars on Shakespeare tickets—of course he’s an actor. And I’ve just shut down the possibility of
anything happening between us
.

I shake my head in frustration over yet again being drawn to exactly the type of man I’m trying to avoid.

Why couldn’t he be a policeman? Or a construction worker? Or a cowboy?

Wait, did I just wish for him to be a member of the Village People?

Liam’s shoulder brushes mine again. It makes me tingle, and I suspect he’s doing it on purpose. I really need to get out of here, because the longer I stay, the more tempted I am to
say “screw it” to my sense of self-preservation and just give in to the dozens of horny fantasies currently running through my mind.

Before I can move, he says, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

I turn to him. “How did you know?”

“You’ve been tensing up for the past few minutes. I figured you were either going to bail or rip off my shirt. Considering my shirt is sadly still in one piece, I guess leaving won
out.”

I give him a smile, grateful he’s not making this harder than it needs to be. “Very perceptive. I have a big day tomorrow. I really should get home and go to bed.”

He leans forward a little, and dammit, he’s looking at my lips again. “I have a bed downstairs. It would be much faster to go there.”

I concentrate on keeping my breathing even as he continues inching toward me. “Yes, but I need to get some rest, and I have a feeling if we go to your bed, there’d be none of
that.”

He’s so close now, he has to turn his head so our noses don’t bump. “No. There really wouldn’t.”

God, he smells good. And I have zero doubt he’d taste good. But more than anything, I know for damn sure he’d feel so good, one kiss would be all it would take for him to have me
completely under his spell. Considering I don’t have the time or inclination to be in the thrall of a devastatingly attractive actor right now, I lean away from him and order my disgruntled
body to stand down.

“And that’s why I need to leave,” I say, trying to convince myself as well as him. “Plus, you lied when you said you wouldn’t try to seduce me.”

He frowns. “Is that what was happening? Because I swear it was the other way around.”

“All I did was look at you.”

“Exactly.”

With a resigned sigh, he jumps down from the ledge and holds his arms up for me. I put my hands on his shoulders, then he grips my waist as he slowly lowers me down.

Lord, he’s strong. He holds me like I weigh nothing, and though I’m short, I’m also curvy. It’s not like I’m a featherweight.

When I’m on my feet, he doesn’t let go of my waist; in fact, his fingers tighten and release in an uneven rhythm. And I don’t let go of his shoulders. They’re beautiful.
Hard and round. More muscular than those of any other man I’ve ever been with.

“There’s still time for the shirt-ripping option,” Liam says quietly as he stares down at me. “I promise I won’t judge you.”

I have a moment of weakness and graze my fingers down his arms, over his triceps, elbows, and forearms. His skin is so hot and smooth, I’m tempted to find out what his stomach feels like
under his T-shirt. But if I head in that direction, there’s no way I’m getting out of here tonight.

As it is, I’m so aroused I’m nearly panting. “Maybe next time.”

He clenches his jaw, and I notice that his breathing is a little faster than it was a few minutes ago. “I’ll keep you to that.”

Our trek downstairs is filled with tension, and when he drops the supplies back in his apartment, I have one last longing look at his perfect body next to his perfect bed before taking him up on
his offer to walk me to the subway station.

A few minutes later, we reach the stairwell that leads beneath the street.

I stop on the corner to face him. “Well, here we are.” I’m trying to disguise how reluctant I am to go, but there’s a good chance I’m failing.

He nods, and I can see tension in his jaw. “I guess so. Tonight was . . . special. Meeting you. Touching you. All of it.” He cocks his head. “But I have a terrible feeling
you’re not going to offer me your number, are you?”

If you weren’t an actor, hell yes. But I’m almost sure you are, so I won’t.

I shake my head. “But maybe I’ll see you around?”

He lets out a short laugh. “In this city? Unlikely.”

“Unless fate, right?”

I mean it to be a joke, but his expression turns serious. “Yeah. Fate.”

He stares for a few seconds, then shoves his hands into his pockets and gives me a wry smile. “Of course, you know where I live now. So if you ever feel a deep, spiritual need for a booty
call, you can drop by anytime. Day or night. Or day
and
night if you’re feeling tense. Apart from pristine bed-making, I also specialize in mind-blowing erotic massage.”

I suppress a laugh as a ball of warmth blooms in my stomach. “I have no doubt. Sure. I’ll drop by.”

He shakes his head. “You really are a terrible actress, aren’t you. You can’t even fake it to spare my ego?”

“I predict your ego will be just fine. Good night, Liam Quinn.” I hold out my hand as he goes for a hug. Then we laugh and step back. When he offers his hand, I shake it.

Jesus, most awkward moment ever.
It gets even more awkward when we stop smiling and neither one of us lets go. We just continue to stand there and shake hands.

Liam lets out a breath. “Okay, so . . . this is where you walk away.”

“Yeah. I’ll just . . . go.” I take a tentative step away from him, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

My back hits the wall of the building behind me as Liam steps forward. He’s so tall and his shoulders are so broad, they block out the light. In the shadows, his expression looks ravenous.
I’ve had men look at me with desire before, but nothing like this. I can feel him holding himself back. Every muscle is tense, yet his fingers are gentle as they caress mine.

“Elissa.” He cups my face and leans down. When our noses brush, I can’t help but grip the front of his T-shirt. “Maybe you don’t have to leave just yet.”

My blood pressure is getting higher every second. “I really should.” My heart is thundering, roaring blood through my ears.

“Or maybe you can just stand there for a few minutes and let me do this.”

I stop breathing as he gently grazes his lips across mine.

Oh. Fuck.

No.

No, no,
no.

Giant mistake.

My mind seizes. I’ve never felt lips so soft. He does it again, and my whole body flushes, inside and out.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice raspy.

I grip his T-shirt tighter.
Not really.

I’ve tried to resist him all night, but now that I’ve felt his mouth, not wanting more is impossible.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you,” he whispers, and grazes my lips again. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are.”

I lay my hands at against his chest as he kisses me again, deeper this time. Light suction. Sudden inhale.

Goddammit.

Reality melts away in a lusty haze, and I’m physically incapable of not kissing him back. I suck on his lips as I push up onto my toes. He grunts in response and presses against me, all
hard-bodied and strong. When our mouths open and tongues slide, every last shred of resistance frays and snaps. His mouth is heaven, and I want to live there.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters before kissing me harder.

I’m gone. Lost in his touch, and smell, and sweet, sweet taste. There’s no coming back from this.

I once read an Oscar Wilde quote that said, “A kiss may ruin a human life.” It perplexed me, because up until now, I’d always thought kisses were sweet but unimportant. But
this kiss? It’s ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed. It’s like falling and flying, all in the same moment.

His fingers slide into my hair, and I hook my hands around his shoulders, desperate to get closer. I feel people passing us and even hear a few mutter, “Get a room,” but I really
don’t care.

Liam kisses me like he was born to do it. Like he invented the concept and does it better than any other man on the planet. His mouth moves over mine with instinctual ease, and before long, our
hands are grasping and pushing under clothes.

When his hands slide under the back of my T-shirt, a warning bell in my brain reminds me I’m making out on the street. With an actor. A really hot, probably fickle actor.

How much further am I going to let this go before I come to my senses?

Large hands close around my butt, and then he pulls me tight against him. The feel of his erection pressing against my stomach makes me moan.

Okay, then. A little further, apparently.

I’m about half a second away from exploring exactly how hard he is when my common sense screams at me to stop.

Gasping, I hold up a hand and pull back. “Wait a minute.” I suck in a few quick lungfuls of air. “I need to ask you a question, and you have to give me a straight
answer.”

He breathes in shallow pants, his pupils huge. “I know what you’re going to ask, and yes, I do have a condom. Also, I’d be more than happy to risk being arrested so I can fuck
you against this wall.”

“That’s not it.”

“You sure? That’s the vibe I was getting.”

“I know you avoided this earlier, but . . . what do you do for a living?”

He flinches. A sick sense of dread settles in my stomach, because I know I’m not going to like the answer.

“So if I said I’m an actor, you’d, what? Walk away from this?”

“I’d have to. You know why.”

Please, please, please don’t say it. I really like you and want more, but not if you confirm my suspicions.

He sighs. “Okay, fine. I get why you’re hesitant. After Leanne, I figure I won’t be dating any brunettes from Jersey for a while.”