Chapter 17

Olivia Bennett

T he smell of bacon and something sweet pulled me from sleep. Coffee, too, I realized. My eyes fluttered open, and I took in my unfamiliar surroundings. Liam’s apartment. Memories of last night flooded back, instantly making heat rise to my cheeks.

I propped myself up on my elbows, the sheet slipping down. There he was at the stove, shirtless, muscles and scars rippling along his back as he flipped pancakes.

“Mmm, smells amazing,” I murmured, voice still husky from sleep.

Liam glanced over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face. Those piercing green eyes raked over me, igniting a fire in my core all over again. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to drag him back to bed. Focus, Oli. You’re a professional. But god, the things he’d done to me last night… I’d never been so easily distracted.

“Sleep well?” he asked, turning back to the stove.

“Better than I have in years,” I admitted, stretching languidly.

“Good morning, kitten,” Liam purred, the pet name from yesterday sending a shiver down my spine and straight to my pussy. His eyes sparkled with desire as he looked over his shoulder at me one more time, and I felt my insides melt.

God, I had never been so needy for someone before. It was unsettling, how much I craved his touch. I, Olivia Bennett, a seasoned federal agent, reduced to a quivering mess by this man’s mere presence. Oh, how far I’d fallen.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, suddenly unsure of what to do next. We weren’t together, not really. This was just… what? A fling? A one-night stand? I had wondered once we had each other, if the interest would go away, if my desires would settle, but considering that thought alone made my stomach tie up in knots, this wasn’t just a fuck I could shake off. I didn’t want it to be, although it probably should given my circumstances.

I glanced around, reminding myself that his apartment was still technically inside the haunted house. But did this still count? Should I leave?

Liam noticed my hesitation. In two swift strides, he crossed the room. His strong arms encircled me, pulling me flush against his chest. The heat of his bare skin seeped through my thin shirt. I inhaled sharply, catching the scent of him.

“There’s no rules in here, remember?” he murmured against the shell of my ear. Well, that answered my question. Before I could respond, his lips crashed into mine. The kiss was deep and hungry. My body responded instantly, melting into him. A small, needy hum escaped me.

This was a bad idea. I had responsibilities, a case to solve. But god, the way he made me feel…

Liam pulled back suddenly, his eyes dark with desire. “Jade,” he breathed, his voice rough. My resolve wavered at the sound of my name from his lips. Even if it was my undercover one, I didn’t care. His attention was all I wanted. I was used to being in control, to following protocol. But here, with Liam, all bets were off. And part of me—a growing part—loved it.

“We should eat before I eat you,” Liam growled, his voice low and husky. Another blush crept up my neck, burning hot against my skin. We moved to the table, the air thick with tension. I picked at my food, hyperaware of Liam’s every movement.

“So—” I cleared my throat, desperate for normalcy, for anything other than the raging thoughts of having him again and again. “Any special plans for the next Fright Night?”

Liam’s eyes glinted. “Oh, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Thinking of incorporating some new jump scares in the west wing.”

I nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his coffee. The way his eyes watched me over the rim of his mug.

As we finished eating, reality started to creep back in. “I should probably head home,” I said reluctantly. “I need to change and get ready for work.” I stood, glancing around for my pants. I was in nothing but one of his shirts and my panties.

Liam stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me toward him.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his eyes burning into mine.

Our lips met, and this time the kiss was slow, languid. We savored each other, exploring with a newfound intimacy. My analytical mind struggled to process the emotions flooding through me. But I was learning that I wanted to take the plunge, like the fear you feel when you’ve been under water too long. It only intensified my desires for him.

The kiss deepened, becoming heated and urgent. Liam’s hand slipped lower, fingers teasing the waistband of my panties before dipping inside. A moan escaped me. My body arched into him.

What was I doing? This should be a fling. I shouldn’t keep doing this, but I didn’t want to stop all the things I was starting to feel for him.

“Fuck, kitten.” Liam groaned against my lips. We stumbled backwards, our bodies entwined. My legs hit the edge of the bed, and I fell onto the soft mattress, pulling Liam down with me. His weight pressed me into the sheets, the feel of him already familiar yet thrilling.

“Liam.” I gasped, my fingers tracing the scars on his back. His green eyes locked onto mine, burning with an intensity that both excited and unnerved me. For a moment, I glimpsed something darker lurking beneath the surface. A hunger that went beyond mere lust. “What are you doing to me?” I whispered, half to myself.

Liam’s lips curved into a predatory smile. “Only what you want me to, kitten.”

This man was dangerous, I knew that in my bones. But so was I, and I couldn’t stop myself from arching into his touch.

Liam captured my lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I lost myself in the sensation, pushing my doubts aside.

For now, at least, I’d let myself fall.

I traced my finger along the raised lines on Liam's back, feeling each ridge and valley. His skin was warm, still flushed from our lovemaking. Scars crisscrossed his muscular shoulders like a roadmap of pain.

Liam’s eyes were closed, his breathing steady, but I sensed he wasn’t asleep. There was tension in his jaw, a slight furrow between his brows. My heart ached as I imagined the trauma behind those scars. What horrors had Liam endured? I wanted to know, but a small part of me feared the answer. I continued exploring, memorizing each mark. Some were thin and precise, others jagged and brutal.

Liam shifted slightly. “That tickles,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I smiled, despite the heaviness in my chest. “Sorry,” I whispered, stilling my hand on his lower back.

He opened those striking green eyes, gazing at me. The vulnerability there made my breath catch. We lay in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. I struggled with the urge to pry, to uncover Liam’s secrets, but I held back, not wanting to shatter this fragile intimacy. I traced a particularly long scar that ran from his shoulder blade to his lower back. My throat tightened. I couldn’t stop my curiosity then.

“What happened?” I asked softly.

The pain I saw in his eyes was raw—visceral. For a moment, he just stared at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I could almost see the memories flickering behind his eyes.

Liam’s voice was low and rough when he finally spoke. “The Croix family,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Remember how I told you they never caught who killed my mom?” He paused and swallowed hard. I waited, and nodded, not trusting my voice. My fingers stilled on his back, resting lightly over a cluster of scars. “Well, I know who did it, but the Croixes have always gotten out of everything with money,” he said, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. “When I was a teen, I came home from school one day…” His eyes glazed over, like he was lost in the painful memory. I fought the urge to pull him close, to shield him from the horror I knew was coming. “My mom was a single parent after my dad left. We always struggled financially,” Liam continued. “I never knew she’d gotten a loan from the Croixes and their loan shark operation.”

My stomach clenched. I’d seen firsthand the devastation caused by predatory lenders like the Croixes. Liam’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “She couldn’t pay it back on time, and a group of them showed up at our home.” I held my breath, dreading his next words. “They beat her and my sister to death.” His voice cracked. “I walked in as it was happening. They sliced me up while I watched them finish them off… I never understood why they left me breathing, maybe to teach me a lesson somehow.” Tears welled in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. A lump formed in my throat, choking me. I wanted to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But I couldn’t.

“Liam… I’m so sorry.” The words felt hollow, inadequate in the face of such profound loss. How many people had told him that in hopes of making him feel better? How many times had he heard those empty apologies, those futile attempts to ease the unbearable weight he carried? My apology was no different, and I was sure he saw it as just another meaningless phrase. But in the moment, it was all I had to give—to say—wrapped in the broken pieces of my heart, a reflection of the guilt I couldn’t shake. The guilt that built day by day with every victim of the Croix family I’d encountered.

I hated them, along with all the other people who’d slipped through the cracks.

His shoulders tensed, and I saw it—the storm he held inside, the anger, the grief, the exhaustion. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, to somehow absorb some of that pain. But I stayed rooted on the bed, helpless.

My mind raced, piecing together everything I knew about the Croix family from my time as an agent. The corruption, the violence, the lives they'd ruined without consequences. Bile rose in my throat.

“They’ve hurt so many people, destroyed so many lives. And they just… get away with it.”

Liam’s hand found mine, his touch both comforting and electrifying. “So you’ve heard of them too?” he asked softly.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “More than I care to remember. The system… it’s broken. The really bad ones always seem to slip through the cracks.”

Liam’s hand reached up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm. “It was a long time ago.”

I searched his face, marveling at his strength. “How come you seem so calm about it?”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Because they will get what’s coming to them eventually.” There was something in his tone, a quiet certainty that sent a thrill through me. My gaze drifted to the clock on the nightstand. Almost eleven. The morning had slipped away.

“Does this mean I’m late to work?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. The agent in me hated the thought of tardiness, even under these circumstances.

Liam shook his head, a mischievous glint replacing the earlier darkness in his eyes. “Fucking your boss has perks,” he said, his voice low and playful. Before I could react, he pulled me into another kiss, his lips warm and insistent against mine. For a moment, I lost myself in the sensation, my body responding to his touch. But the rational part of my brain kicked in, reminding me of the day ahead. I pushed at his chest, breaking away.

“Liam,” I breathed, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to him. “We can’t just—”

He chuckled, the sound sending a different kind of thrill through me. “Can’t we?” he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. I struggled to maintain my composure. Part of me wanted to give in, to lose myself in him and forget about everything else that lurked beyond this room. But I knew we couldn’t hide away in here forever.

“We have to get some work done today,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. Liam huffed, frustration evident in the slouch in his shoulders. I couldn’t help but laugh at the childlike pout on his lips.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air raising goose bumps on my skin. My pants lay crumpled on the floor, and I snatched them up, the fabric rough against my fingers. As I pulled them on and stood, adjusting my clothes and running a hand through my tangled hair, Liam watched me, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and something deeper—trust, maybe. Or was it vulnerability?

“I’ll see you down there,” I said over my shoulder, injecting a lightness into my tone that I didn’t quite feel. I threw him a wink, hoping to leave him with a smile rather than the haunted look from earlier.

I stumbled into my apartment, exhausted but buzzing from the night and morning I’d had with Liam. I closed the door but when I turned around my stomach dropped. There, sprawled out on the couch, was Johnathan. His hair stuck up in all directions, his headphones were askew. Empty junk food wrappers littered the coffee table. His eyes gleamed with mischief as they met mine.

“Well, well, look who finally made it home,” he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. I froze, heat rising up my neck.

“I need a shower,” I muttered, averting my gaze.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Johnathan chuckled.

I hurried toward the bathroom, my cheeks burning now. How was I going to face him after this? Maybe he didn’t listen in to all the crazy sex Liam and I had? As I reached for the doorknob, his voice stopped me.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, good morning… kitten .”

I winced, my hand freezing on the bathroom doorknob. That damned nickname. Of course he’d heard us. My cheeks burned hotter, remembering Liam’s husky whisper in my ear. I turned slowly, facing Johnathan’s knowing grin.

“Someone had quite the night,” he continued, waggling his eyebrows. “And morning, from what I could hear.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Oh god.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he laughed. “It sounded like you both were having a great time.”

I peeked through my fingers, mortification warring with the urge to burst out laughing. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Johnathan’s grin widened. “Nooope. But I’ll be sure it stays just between us, you know, wouldn’t want Clemens to get a listen to that.”

His giggles followed me as I stepped into the bathroom. I stuck my hand out the door, middle finger raised high. It was childish, sure, but damn if it didn’t feel good. Johnathan’s laughter only grew louder through the apartment as I slammed the door shut to get ready for work.