13. Nessa

No matter how much I try to downplay it to myself or to the blank document on my computer, this trip to Vegas is shaping up to be one of the most thrilling experiences of my life. Knowing Liam has planned it all just adds to the excitement. Since he showed up in California, things have felt different, or maybe they've always been this way, and I'm just now willing to admit it. Liam isn't just a friend with benefits; he's the man I'm falling in love with. He's someone I want to open up to completely, trusting him not to use my vulnerabilities against me.

But then reality crashes back in, reminding me that in less than five months, he'll be gone. Every reminder feels like a knife twisting in my chest, a pain far deeper than any I've felt before because it's something beyond our control. It's like we have an expiration date that we're both trying to ignore.

I've always been the type to look at things logically, probably because life's thrown some pretty wild curveballs my way: a crazy family, health issues, dreams that crashed and burned.

But moving to Silverbrook? That was like hitting the reset button. I found an amazing group of friends who have my back no matter what, classes that actually get me excited to learn, and then there's Liam. He's pretty much everything I've ever wanted, even if it's just for now. So, I'm letting myself hope a bit, peeking at international exchange programs, especially ones in England.

I haven't talked to Liam about this yet. Not sure if I ever will. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure I want to go through with the exchange program, but what really makes me hesitate is thinking about Liam's reaction. The thought of suggesting we could keep whatever this is going beyond our expected end date is downright scary. What if he doesn't feel the same way about us, or what if it complicates things? For the first time, I find myself holding back, afraid of his response, yet there's a part of me that really wants to find out if we have a chance at something more lasting.

I stare at the blank page on my screen, feeling restless. I thought diving into an essay might distract me until it's time to head to the airport for Vegas, but if anything, it's just cranking up my anxiety. Giving up on schoolwork, I glance at the overstuffed suitcase by my bed, a clear sign of my pre-trip nerves making me pack way more than necessary for just a couple of days.

My watch buzzes, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I'm thankful for the distraction.

Poppy: How about we head out early? Eva's set on going with Cherry Bomb, and she's worried Cole might mess with her car.

I can't help but laugh to myself. Leave it to Cole to make us all paranoid.

Me: Smart, I wouldn't put it past the psycho.

Eva's choice to go to Vegas has me puzzled, even if I suspect she's mostly doing it for Poppy. Ever since the break, there's been a noticeable change in her relationship with Cole, somewhat mirroring the evolution of my own connection with Liam. But her agreeing to this trip feels like she's taking a giant leap, trusting him on a whole new level. I know she still loves him—I'm deaf, not blind—but I sense a layer of apprehension. It's not necessarily fear of Cole—I hope not—but more like a fear of getting too caught up in him. And since California, I've been feeling a similar trepidation about getting lost in what Liam and I have.

As I grab my suitcase and handbag, ready to go, I'm greeted by the sight of the girls, their oversized luggage in tow, mirroring my own mix of excitement and nerves.

"You sure you don't mind me rooming with Ethan?" Poppy reiterates, probably for the tenth time.

I shake my head, offering her a reassuring smile, and pull her into a rare hug. I'm genuinely thrilled for her. "Why would I mind? Seeing you happy makes me happy."

Poppy's eyes well up with unshed tears as she blinks them away. "I really am happy."

It's moments like these, surrounded by friends who've become my chosen family, that I'm reminded of how much we've all grown together. We don't take each other for granted; instead, we cherish and respect each other's feelings, making every step of this journey worthwhile.

Once we're out of the apartment, I don't have much time to think about anything except the trip ahead.

"Nervous?" I lean over to whisper to Eva as our flight begins, catching Cole's curious glance from the luxury of first class.

"You think I'm crazy, right?" she whispers back, excitement and apprehension in her eyes.

"Not necessarily," I reply, trying to offer reassurance.

"No, not you," Poppy interjects from beside us. "Him, on the other hand…" She nods toward Cole, sparking a quiet laugh among us that doesn't go unnoticed by our fellow passengers, particularly the unamused lady sitting ahead of us.

The flight passes in a blur of conversation and laughter as we eagerly discuss our plans for Vegas. With only one full day there, we're all intent on making the most of every moment. The anticipation builds with each mile we fly, our shared excitement an undercurrent to the hum of the plane's engines. It's a special kind of thrill, knowing we're heading into an adventure that promises to be unforgettable, both as a group of friends and for whatever Liam and I might explore together.

Landing in Vegas, the energy shift is immediate. Even from the taxi window, the vibrant lights of the Strip seem to dance, welcoming us into its embrace of endless night. My heart races as we pull up to our hotel, the grandeur and sparkle of it all feeling like we've stepped into another world.

At the check-in desk, I hand over my ID and credit card, trying to appear more seasoned and less like the wide-eyed tourist I feel inside. The receptionist taps away at the computer, then looks up with a smile. "Miss Caldwell and Sinclair. You've been upgraded to one of our suites courtesy of a special arrangement."

Eva and I look at each other, momentarily speechless, the surprise upgrade adding an extra layer of excitement to our arrival.

I can't help but wonder if it's a present from Liam or a trick from Cole, but I also decide that we should enjoy the lavishness of whatever luxury we'll be getting.

When we meet Poppy by the elevator she's texting.

"Ethan is on the tenth floor."

"We're on the ninth."

The elevator ride to our suite is full of that electric excitement that only Vegas can inspire. When we step into our room, it's like entering another world. The suite is massive, and the view—it's something else.

I drop my suitcase by the bed, barely giving it a second glance as I'm drawn to the window, mesmerized by the view. The Las Vegas Strip stretches out before us, a dazzling display of lights and colors that promises magic as soon as the sun dips below the horizon. I'm already imagining how it will transform at night when my watch buzzes with a message.

BB: An Uber will pick you up in 30 minutes. I've got a surprise for you.

My heart skips a beat, excitement coursing through me at the thought of what Liam has planned. I can't help but feel a rush of anticipation, wondering what the evening holds.

Turning to share this with Eva, I find her already watching me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. It's becoming clear that I'm not as good at hiding my feelings for Liam as I thought. And truthfully? I'm okay with that. There's a part of me that's ready for everyone to know, to bring what we have into the light. Yet, there's this hesitance, a set of rules I've been clinging to even as Liam seems to disregard them with each passing day.

Before I can fabricate an excuse for why I'll be ditching them tonight, Eva comes to my rescue. "I was thinking of catching a cabaret show tonight, but I know you're not into musicals. Mind if I go with Poppy?"

Her understanding brings a genuine smile to my face, and I can't muster the energy to pretend. "Thank you."

She winks at me, her smile light and teasing. "Have fun," she encourages, already rummaging through her suitcase for her evening dress.

Her words spring me into action, and before I know it, I'm ready and waiting downstairs, just in time to see the Uber pull up to the hotel. The night ahead promises to be unforgettable, and as I step into the car, I feel a mix of nerves and excitement. Tonight, the rules might just have to wait.

As the Uber veers off the main strip, taking us into the quieter parts of Vegas, a flutter of nervousness tickles my stomach. The glitzy, glamorous Vegas I'm familiar with fades away in the rearview mirror, replaced by the more subdued, everyday face of the town. It's a side of Vegas most tourists don't see, and it's not long before my imagination starts to run wild. I half joke to myself that this could be the start of a crime show scenario.

Grabbing my phone, I quickly send a message to Liam, looking for some reassurance.

Me: Are we supposed to head into town? Where are we going?

His response comes almost immediately, calming my nerves.

BB: Yes, don't worry - I'm following the ride on my phone. You're safe. You'll be here in less than five.

I'm safe.Those words, so casually sent, mean everything to me. Feeling safe with anyone is a new and precious experience, something I cherish.

As the car slows and stops in front of a sleek, all-glass building, I find myself puzzled. "Thank you…" I say, trailing off as I exit the Uber and stare at the sign above the entrance, National Institute of Sensories. The name doesn't immediately click, and I stand there, trying to piece together what Liam has planned.

My phone vibrates again with another message from Liam.

BB: Come in, the reception desk has the details.

I enter the building somewhat hesitantly, half expecting Liam to pop out at any moment.

"Miss Caldwell, I presume?" The middle-aged woman behind the desk greets me with a warm smile.

"I… Well… Yes," I manage to stammer out, my usual eloquence failing me.

Her smile broadens, and I feel a bit of my apprehension melt away. "Marvelous," she says, sliding a key card across the counter. "Your young man is waiting for you in room 218. Second floor, last door on the left."

"I—" I start to ask what exactly this room contains but decide against it. "Thank you."

By the time I reach the door of room 218, my heart pounds with excitement and nerves. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to find Liam standing in the middle of what appears to be a dance studio.

"Okay?" I step in, looking around in confusion. This was definitely not what I was expecting.

Liam's smile is reassuring as he closes the distance between us. "You said if I was a good boy, you'd dance for me."

The memory of my half-joking promise makes me grimace. Since losing my hearing, I've danced only for myself, in solitude where I can't be judged or pitied. "Liam, no," I protest, shaking my head, the thought of performing making me anxious. "I'm not—I'm—It won't be good."

He doesn't waver, his confidence in me unshaken. "It will, of course it will."

"How do you know that?" I ask, my voice filled with doubt and a tiny spark of hope.

He steps closer, his warmth enveloping me as he takes my clammy hands in his. "Because everything you do is perfection," he says with such sincerity that my heart skips a beat.

"I—" My eyes scan the room, still processing everything.

Liam gently squeezes my hand, drawing my gaze back to him. "I rented this room weeks ago, planning every detail with the team here to tailor it, especially for you. They've optimized everything to accommodate your hearing loss."

"Liam…" His name escapes me as a whisper, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.

"I just want to watch you dance," he says simply.

How can I resist knowing he's gone to such lengths just for me? Glancing down at my knee-high platform boots, I hesitate. "I'm not dressed for this."

Then he kneels before me, his actions tender, like a prayer. He carefully unzips my boot and slides it off, followed by my sock, his kiss on my foot sending a wave of emotion through me. He repeats the gesture with the other foot, his gentleness making my heart swell.

"Why are you so perfect?" I blurt out, my voice thick with emotion.

"I'm not perfect, princess. I just—" He pauses, a tumult of feelings crossing his face as he remains knelt before me. "I want to see the freedom you find in dance."

I nod, barely able to speak, and he rises to brush his lips against mine softly before taking a seat on a bench near the door.

"Petrushka is your favorite, isn't it?" he asks, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"How did you remember that?" I'm astonished, recalling a late-night conversation where I'd mentioned my love for the ballet after demonstrating a move from it during one of our sexual explorations.

He just smiles. "Dance for me, princess." He presses a button, and the light in the room dims. The floor beneath my feet begins to vibrate in sync with the visuals of a ballerina preparing to dance on the screens that the mirrors have become. It takes me a moment, but then I realize—the vibrations are guiding me to the rhythm of the music.

Surrounded by the images, feeling the beat pulsate under my bare feet, I understand the depth of Liam's gesture. He's not just asking me to dance; he's inviting me into a world where my passion for dance isn't hindered by my deafness but celebrated. With a deep breath, I let go of my reservations and prepared to share with him the most intimate part of myself as I dance.

And so, I dance—each movement a reflection not just of the music's rhythm but of my life's journey. Surrounded by mirrored images of ballerinas, I let the vibrations guide me, becoming one with the beat. This isn't just a dance; it's a release, a catharsis.

With each motion, I channel the highs and lows of my life—the neglect from my parents, the profound silence of losing my hearing, and the despair of thinking I'd never dance again. Yet, as I move, the narrative shifts to one of resilience and rebirth. The dance speaks of the friendships that lifted me and the newfound strength I discovered within myself.

And then there's Liam. The dance softens, each movement a delicate whisper of my feelings for him. It's as if my love, fears, and hopes are all woven into the fabric of the dance, revealing the depth of my emotions.

This isn't just a performance; it's a declaration of my past pains, my present joys, and the love that has quietly grown. It's a dance that encapsulates my life's story, highlighting not just where I've been but where I'm going, all wrapped in the silent music that only I can hear. As the last vibration lingers in the air, I realize this dance—this beautiful, raw, and honest dance—will be a moment I cherish forever, a symbol of my journey and the love that dances quietly in my heart.

As the performance ends and the lights brighten, I turn to face him, breathless. The look in his eyes squeezes my heart tight—admiration, awe, love. In his gaze, I'm more than just myself; I'm everything beautiful and profound. For a fleeting moment, seeing myself through his eyes, I believe it too. This moment, his gift, it's something I'll cherish forever.

I walk toward him, my movements a little uncertain. "Did you enjoy it?" I ask, though his expression has already given me the answer.

"Enjoy it?" He stands up, closing the distance between us with a few strides. "Nessa, it was more than enjoyment. It was like witnessing pure magic, an art form so beautiful and personal that it was a privilege to watch." His face is hard, reflecting so many emotions, his hands reaching out to gently cup my face.

The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming. "You saw me," I whisper, the realization dawning on me. Not just the dancer but the person behind the dance, with all my fears, hopes, and dreams.

"I saw you," he confirms, his thumbs softly stroking my cheeks. "And you are extraordinary."

The room feels charged with an energy I've never experienced before, a connection that transcends words, music, and even dance. It's at this moment that I understand the depth of what Liam and I share isn't just a fleeting romance but something far more profound.

He leans in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that's tender yet filled with all the unspoken feelings we've danced around.

The kiss deepens and turns from something gentle and soft to something filled with lust.

He starts exploring my mouth in the dominant way that makes me forget my own name and soaks my panties like nothing else.

He grabs my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, making me moan. He lets his hands run down my back and squeezes my ass, pulling me against his growing cock.

"I want you, little witch."

I jerk back a little. "Here?"

"Yes. I want to worship you surrounded by all these mirrors. I want to see you come from all angles, and I want you to see how beautiful you are and how much you please me."

I shiver with anticipation as more wetness coats my panties at the thought of us having sex in a public place surrounded by all these mirrors, exposing ourselves completely.

"This is so unlike you." I breathe as he starts kissing my neck while reaching behind me and untying the velvet ribbon of my corset. This man has become an expert in getting me out of my clothes in record time, no matter how intricate the design is.

His teeth gently scrape along my jawline, sending a thrill through me before he pulls back to meet my gaze. "Is it? You've turned my life upside down, awakening a part of me I never knew existed. You're the only one to blame."

I can't suppress the smile that breaks across my face, my arms winding around his neck in a playful gesture. "Oh no… I'm so terribly sorry," I say, my tone dripping with mock remorse.

"As you should be," he replies, effortlessly sliding down the zipper of my skirt until it's a puddle of fabric at our feet. Gently, he disentangles my arms from around his neck, then works at the laces of my corset with practiced ease. Soon, it joins the skirt on the floor in a whisper of silk. Taking my hand, he guides me to the side, helping me step out of the discarded clothes.

He looks at me in ways that make my knees go weak. I've never seen myself like that—like I'm a treasure, a gift from the gods. But when Liam looks at me, I suddenly feel like I'm the most beautiful, enticing woman to have ever walked this earth.

"Red lingerie… my favorite," he trails off, biting his bottom lip and letting his eyes roam freely across my body, stopping a little longer on my breasts and on my red-lace-covered pussy.

I know red is his favorite. He always becomes a little wilder when I wear red, and I love Liam as wild as he can get. Nothing is more enticing than when he sheds all his self-imposed rules and joins me in the chaos.

As he removes his shirt and takes a step toward me, I can't help but marvel at his well-defined chest, the abs, and the V that leaves me breathless. Trailing my fingers across his skin, I relish the way his muscles ripple under my touch. Hooking my fingers in the waist of his pants, I draw him closer as he slides down the strap of my bra, trailing kisses from my neck down to the curve of my shoulder.

I start unbuttoning his pants as he unhooks my bra and leans down to suck my nipple in his mouth. I arch my back and close my eyes. Letting myself get lost in the sensation of his hot mouth and wicked tongue on my flesh.

He pushes my hands away as he keeps on kissing me, slowly going down my body, kissing my pussy through the material of my now-soaked panties.

I feel the rumble of his laughter against my skin and look down as he pulls down the flimsy fabric.

"My little witch seems eager," he says, helping me out of the wet material.

"I can say the same," I reply, looking pointedly at his hard cock jutting out of his opened pants.

"I'm always eager when I'm touching you."

How can he blend sweetness with such lust? How could I not become addicted to him?

He brushes his nose on my pubic bone, and I let out a desperate whimper when he stands up, not putting his mouth where I want it the most.

"Patience." He gets out of his pants and underwear before turning me around to face the mirror. "Eyes on me."

Grateful for my ability to read lips in the mirror, I keep my gaze locked on his reflection.

"Look how perfect you are for me. Look how your body reacts when I touch you. Look how breathtaking you are when I make you come," he adds before licking my neck as one of his hands grabs my breast, playing with it, and the other trails down between my legs and starts to rub me slowly.

He sucks on my earlobe and bites a little.

"Ummm, you're so wet." I spread my legs a little, and he keeps on rubbing, thrusting two fingers inside me with his back and forth.

He increases the pace as he pinches my nipple, and I feel the heaviness of the impending orgasm building. And suddenly, just as I'm about to come, his touch vanishes.

"Liam!" I shout with frustration, wanting to kill him for this offense.

"You closed your eyes. I told you to keep your eyes on me."

I look him in the eyes as I bring my hand between my legs and start rubbing myself. I let out a loud moan as I enter myself with two fingers, even if it's far less satisfying than his fingers.

I hiss when he grabs my wrist, and it makes him smirk.

"Oh, settle down; I'll make you come." My mouth is wide open when he brings my glistening fingers to his lips and sucks them. "Delicious. You're my favorite dessert."

"Liam, please, I need to come."

He leans over and licks my lips. "You want my cock?"

I nod. There's no need to deny it—my core is clenching nonstop, begging for his thick, hard length.

He gestures toward the barre. "Leg up, and keep your eyes on me."

As I approach it, my heart pounds with anticipation, fully aware that once I'm in position, I'll be utterly exposed and at his mercy.

By the time I'm positioned and he steps behind me, my breath is shallow with anticipation.

I hold his eyes in the mirror despite the arousal running down my leg, making me blush.

I feel his cock brush up and down my slit, and I'm not above shameless begging when he enters me to the hilt with one hard thrust.

I squeeze him hard inside of me, feeling every ridge and vein while I watch his face morph in pure ecstasy in the mirror. Fuck, this man is even more beautiful in the heart of rapture.

"Look at what you're doing to me, little witch," he says, still fully seated inside of me. He starts to move with long, hard thrusts, and I grab the barre, getting lost in the image of us. It's brutal, domineering, and animalistic, the way his arm flexes every time he squeezes my hips. How his neck tenses with every sharp thrust followed by my squeeze. I let my eyes roam down and look at where our bodies connect, how his long thick cock disappears into my soft heat, and I love every second of it. His thrusting turns a little more erratic, and one hand leaves my hip to trail down my stomach and start rubbing my clit.

I look back up.

"You like it, don't you? Seeing how well you take my dick?" I let out a whimper of confirmation. I'm too close to think coherently. "I love it too. Your body is a heaven made just for me." He rubs my clit harder. "Come for me because I won't last." He pinches my clit, and I lose it. I squeeze him inside of me as I arch my back, shouting his name for the world to hear.

Liam follows soon, thrusting one last time with such force that my face is pressed against the cool mirror. Yet I can still see him—throwing his head back, the veins in his neck standing out as he shouts, a sound I desperately wish I could hear.

And then it's over. Gently, he traces his hand up my leg, guiding it down from the barre, before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against his body, supporting me.

In the quiet aftermath of our intimacy, with the energy of our connection still enveloping us, I find myself cocooned in Liam's arms, my skin against his. It's here, in the vulnerability of our closeness, that the truth I've been holding back finds its way to the surface.

"I'm falling for you," I admit, the words whispered into the space between us, as delicate and significant as the touch that still connects us. My admission hangs in the air, a raw confession made in the aftermath of our passion.

In response, Liam simply pulls me closer, enveloping me in a comforting embrace that doesn't offer words but speaks volumes. It's an answer that doesn't clarify everything, leaving me with questions about what the future holds for us. Yet, in this moment, wrapped in his arms, I find a sense of peace. Even without a verbal response, I know that admitting my feelings was the right choice, and I'm content with whatever comes next, knowing I've shared my truth.