“And when you go for the Balfour shoot in two weeks? Then what, Liv? I know the guy shooting it. How do you think I’ll feel knowing you, my bitch, my girlfriend, my Liv, is on a beach in front of some other knobhead while he takes her picture?”
“I’m not shooting in two weeks.”
His lips curl up. “Yes, you are. Sheila just didn’t call you yet. You got the campaign. And while you’re on a beach in fucking Mexico in a fucking bikini in front of some fucking knob, I’m stuck here, waiting for you to get back.”
I can’t even be happy. I can’t be thrilled about getting the campaign. All I can hear is the thickness in his voice. The one he’s trying to hide.
“You are mine, Liv. Don’t ever doubt that. Every part of you is mine. And I’m yours. Every part of me is yours. Don’t doubt that either.”
I bury my face into his chest. He’s right. We belong to each other, even if it is in the most fucked-up way. In a way that makes no sense at all.
“I don’t doubt it,” I whisper into him. “I never doubt it. Not when I feel this way. I can’t. It’s impossible, Ty. I can’t not believe it.”
“Then listen to it. Please, baby girl. Please just fucking listen to it when I make you crazy.”
“You don’t make me crazy. Other people make me crazy.”
He laughs softly. His chest rumbles and vibrates beneath my cheek, and I find myself smiling a little. I love the sound of his laugh.
“I take offense at that. Don’t you know I wake up every morning and figure out a thousand ways to make you go crazy?” he asks, kissing the top of my head.
I squeeze his waist. “I can believe that. I have a question.”
“Have you calmed down now? Can we have a conversation without shouting?”
I nod. “I just needed to get the crazy out.”
Tyler pulls back and runs his hands up my body until they reach my face. “What is it?”
I swipe under my eyes, wiping away the remaining wetness, and look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me your sister was staying with you?”
A smirk tugs at his lips. “I didn’t want you to freak the hell out. Like you did when Day told you.”
I bite the inside of my lip. “It was a surprise.”
He laughs and releases me, heading toward my kitchen. “No shit. She wants to get away from London. I told her she could stay at my place for a few weeks. She’ll stay, go home for a couple weeks, then come back for the wedding.”
The wedding?
Oh, Aaron and Dayton’s. Right. Phew.
Little mind-jump there.
I follow him and sit at the table, bringing my feet up onto the chair and hugging my knees. “Do I have to meet her?”
“If you think you can avoid her, I’ll give you a medal.” He opens my cupboards one by one.
“Okay. I guess I’m resigning myself to the seriousness of our five-day-old relationship.”
His brown eyes shine with amusement. “I love how you think this just started.”
“It only just officially started. I’m going with official.”
“The day you walked into that damn shoot and didn’t fight me, you were mine. It’s been way longer than five measly fucking days.” He shuts the fridge and sighs, turning. “Do you have anything to cook in this place?”
My gaze flicks from side to side before finally finding his. “Um.” I chew the inside of my cheek and shrug in a way I hope is cute.
He fights his smile, shakes his head, and pulls out his phone. Muttering the word, “Dominos,” he holds the phone to his ear and grins at me.
And as he reels off an order, it doesn’t escape my notice that, despite my breakdown, we didn’t really sort anything out at all.
I open my legs and arch my back. And hit a solid wall of muscle.
The solid wall of muscle groans, and I roll onto my side at the same time that it—Tyler—makes a grab for me. Unfortunately for me—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—he’s quicker. He loops an arm over my body and physically yanks me back into him.
I squeak as my back hits his chest.
“Morning,” he mumbles into my shoulder, leaving a line of kisses along my skin.
“Go away,” I reply, shuffling away. “I need the toilet.”
“Sexiest thing I’ve heard in a while.” He laughs, releasing me, and blood rushes to my cheeks.
Shit. Note to self: replace brain-to-mouth filter.
With my cheeks still flaming, I climb out of bed and run into my bathroom. I flatten my palms against my cheeks while I…take care of business. Then I slowly walk back into my room.
Tyler’s leaning against the headboard and has turned the TV on. “Be a love and get me a cup of tea.”
“That has to be the most British sentence I’ve ever heard,” I reply, whipping the covers away from him. “And the answer is a big fat no.”
I jump into the bed next to him. The controller hits the ground with a thunk and Tyler’s hands grab my waist. He tugs me down the bed until I’m flat on my back and leans over me.
“I wasn’t asking you, babe. I was telling you.”
His voice hums over my chest, making my pulse thrum in my neck.
“Unless you’re telling me to get on my knees and suck your cock, I’m not good with being told what to do.”
His lips twitch up. “Oh, believe me. I know.” He trails a finger across my bare stomach, up to my breastbone. He teases it between my breasts until it climbs my neck, ghosts the curve of my jaw, and rests on my bottom lip. “And being told what to do it isn’t all you’re good at.”
“Honey, you’re telling me things I already know. This conversation is completely pointless.” I kiss his fingertip then bat his hand away.
“Had much experience with it?” His eyes spark with heat.
I roll out from under him, get up, and slide my panties down my legs. I grab some clean underwear from the drawer and proceed to get dressed. All the while, his eyes are roving over my body like he’s been starved of me.
Finally, I turn, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Experience means shit. I know I could give you the best damn blow job of your life.”
“Is that so?”
“I challenge you to find out.”
“Accepted. My place. Seven p.m.” He swings his legs out of bed and grabs the navy lingerie he bought me. “Wear this. Or else.”
“Or else what?”