Page 111 of Ward Willing
Liam looks over at me, his eyes heavy and sad. “Because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye,” he says quietly, his voice breaking on the last word. “Fuck,” he hisses, sniffing. “I had every intention of making this night romantic, and now we’re both crying.”
I fling myself into his arms, and he catches me even though he’s carrying the garment bag. His arms come around my waist and squeeze me, our bodies pressing against each other as I process everything he told me. He’s warm, and this… it’s too much. It’s a very small part of my dad, but it’s more than I had before, and probably more than I’ll ever get again.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He runs a hand down my back before reaching into his pocket to retrieve a key. And on the keyring is a small magic eight ball. He pulls away and hands it to me.
“The lock is a bit finicky. I’d only ever visited a couple of times before I bought it, so I don’t know a lot about it. But I do know which room was his, and that the backyard is full of buried treasure.”
I laugh, and take the key from him, walking to the front door and inserting it into the lock. Once the door is open, I’m overcome with nostalgia. I’d never been here—my grandparents both moved back to Portugal before they passed away when I was a young kid. But somehow, it smells like my dad. The same earthy scent, the type of wood…
I walk around the small house. There are walls that are half painted, and the kitchen doesn’t have any appliances, but it’s clean and cozy.
“The food should be here soon,” Liam says, walking up to me and handing me the garment bag. “The bathroom is down the hall. Take as much time as you need.”
I don’t know what to say, so I take the bag and walk down the hall without another word. After I close the door of a small bathroom, I hang the bag on the towel rail and unzip it with shaky hands. Inside the bag is a beige lingerie set—a soft, lace bra and a matching thong—and a stunning green velvet dress with thin straps and a square neckline.
Grinning, I quickly step out of my clothes and freshen up before pulling the lingerie on. It fits perfectly, and I arch a brow at theAgent Provocateurlabel.
Seems I’m not the only one with good taste.
I slip the dress over my head and pull my hair out of my scrunchie, making sure I give it some body. At the bottom of the bag is a tan shoebox, and my mouth drops open when I see that they’re black Christian Louboutin heels.
How did he know?
Slipping them on, I exit the bathroom and stop walking when I see Liam sitting at a makeshift table. It’s covered in a white tablecloth, and there are several purple candles in crystal holders scattered around. He’s turned down the lights, and despite being a house in the middle of a renovation, it’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.
Some kind of unfamiliar emotion clogs my throat, and I stop walking for a second to clear my thoughts.
He skipped his work for me.
He brought me here instead of a restaurant because he knew how much it would mean to me.
He spent time picking out not only a beautiful dress, but shoes from my favorite designer. And the lingerie? It’s gorgeous.
I tamp the emotion down as my eyes flick over the plates and silverware, and I can smell the food wafting in from the kitchen. I quietly walk forward, and when he notices me, his expression softens as he stands up. I swallow and look around, my hands clasped together in front of me.
I’m nervous—and I’m not sure why.
Should I be acting like his sub? Or should I be acting like someone who lost her father? Or… should I be acting like someone who is slowly realizing she has feelings for her father’s best friend?
“The dress is beautiful,” I say, smiling. “And the shoes…” I stop to show them off, biting my lower lip to keep from grinning like a maniac.
“Stella helped me,” he admits. “However, I did find that lingerie shop all by myself. Every single item in there is horrifically overpriced,” he adds.
I laugh as I walk over to him, reaching out for his purple tie and straightening it. “But you enjoy the results,” I murmur, looking up at him.
He smirks as his hands come to my hair, and he runs his fingers through it. “Oh, I’m very much looking forward to seeing you in the things I picked out.”
Even in heels, I have to stand on my tip toes and pull his head down to me in order to kiss him. When our lips meet, he inhales sharply as his hands roam from my scalp down to my waist, pulling me tight against his body. I groan as his tongue finds mine, and sparks of electricity scatter down my spine as his hands grip my hips firmly.
He pulls away with a heavy breath. “Fuck. If we keep going, I’ll want to eat you for dinner instead of the five-course meal I’ve ordered.”
I huff a laugh as I lick my lips. “I don’t see an issue with that.”
He takes another step away and gives me a smug smile. “We’re eating food first.”
Tilting my head, my lips twist to the side as I walk around to my chair. “Is that an order from my Dom?”
