6. Adam

Icould have laughed it off. Rejected Liam just to prove that I could—that I was still Adam Harrington, and I didn't get on my knees for anyone. Notif you were the last man on earth.

The thought flickered and died.

Instead, I followed his light tug on my wrist. He was a hint taller than me, leaning back against the desk, and I pressed into the gap between his thighs. Our bodies slotted together, and this was still new for me—the solid hardness of another man's chest against mine. Our eyes held.

Breathe. I did. The room felt endless around us, bookshelves dissolving into an abstract backdrop as we hung suspended in this uncertain moment of simmering tension. Anyone could walk in on us—my father or Gale, our butler Mr Davies who'd known me for twenty years yet still called me sir. Should I lock the door? But no one would dare to enter without knocking. And I didn't want to move away from Liam.

If I did, I might chicken out, and God, I wanted this.

"Today, if you please?" Liam's voice carried a mild taunt. "Unless you've lost your nerve?"

I wanted him to choke on his words. To shut up for once. To look at me like I was the only guy in the world.

"You're not that intimidating," I shot back, canting my hips forward. The friction left me briefly dizzy, stomach muscles tight with anticipation, our breaths mingling in the electric space between us. He squeezed my wrist, and I retaliated by digging my fingers into his biceps.

A near-brush of our open mouths, but no kissing. Eyes open.

Windows. I glanced over Liam's shoulder, my desk set at an angle that put visitors at a disadvantage, blinking against daylight, while I could make out every detail of someone's expression. It was a rarely visited stretch of the gardens too, only Gale and I passing by on runs. Once I got to my knees, all anyone would see was Liam's back.

Liam's voice drew my attention back to him. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"

"Eager much?" I countered.

He gave an easy shrug. "We don't have all day."

No one spoke to me like that. No one other than Cassandra, that was. ‘You love having a sparring partner,' she'd told me a couple of days ago, the two of us winding down after a squash session.

‘I thought that was your job,' I'd said, and she'd had the nerve to laugh at me.

‘Sure, hon. But you're not attracted to me.'

I was attracted to Liam, true. Didn't mean I liked him, or that I appreciated being treated like a ‘meh' kind of option. He wasn't the type to beg, no. But I wanted to see how far I could push him.

He straightened slightly when I wedged a hand between our bodies, making it easier for me to unbutton his jeans and curl my fingers around the base of his cock. Half-hard already.

I tossed him a smirk. "Aww, and I've barely even touched you."

"Well, you are hot." One corner of his mouth hitched up, blue eyes sharp. "Shame about the personality."

"Sure you're not projecting?"

"How about putting that mouth to better use?"

Strange to think that I was growing familiar with the wry lilt of his voice. About to respond, I stopped at the flick of his fingers. The carpet slid over from the sofa corner, whispering across the floor before it bunched up against my heels.

It was a simple trick that any but the weakest of air mages could have performed—with magic, size mattered, and moving a carpet required very little power compared to moving a car or an entire house. My mind snagged on something else, though. Because…air magic? His notorious Aqua Reclaimer suggested he controlled water, yet water and air were mutually exclusive. Weren't they? Interesting.

I sent him a saccharine smile. "How considerate, darling. Didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm a fantastic date, Harrington." His answering smile was just as sweet and fake. "Too bad you'll never find out."

"Sounds more like a blessing," I told him, and wasn't it funny how we'd barely spoken the first time this had happened? To stall any further quips, I dropped to my knees. Liam's gaze lost focus for a moment, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as I unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs along with his boxers.

He exhaled sharply when I wrapped my hand around him, his cock filling further under my touch. Not so unaffected, are you?

"Enjoying the view?" I asked softly.

"I've seen worse," was his response.

"Bedside manner like that, it's a wonder they're not queuing around the block for a taste of this." With that, I parted my lips around the head of his dick and moved down until he hit the back of my throat. In the still air, Liam's gasp seemed obscenely loud. I pulled back to avoid choking, not used to the stretch. A deep breath, and I slid down again. Repeated it to build up a tentative rhythm, using my hands to cover what my mouth couldn't.

It was good. So good. Fuck. The way he twitched under my touch like he couldn't quite help it. The warm musk of arousal. His cock, fully hard now, flushed and glistening with my spit.

I glanced up through my lashes. Liam's face was stripped of his usual arrogance as he stared at me, his brows knitted together. Holding his eyes, I licked around the head of his dick. He tipped his chin down with a harsh intake of air, lids fluttering shut.

I'd never done this in broad daylight.

My sexuality was shadows and fumbled urgency, unknown bodies, faces masked. Even the first time with Liam had been rushed and weirdly anonymous, two strangers who knew scarcely more than the other's name coming together. This felt different—the staccato bursts of his breaths and the hectic flush of his cheeks, the way he bit his lip to stifle his moans. If anyone walked in right now, it would be impossible to mistake this for anything but what it was.

I pulled back to give my jaw a brief rest, tonguing along the underside of his cock. When I glanced up once more, he was back to watching me with dark eyes. One hand found its way into my hair, gently cupping the back of my head. I allowed it—sat back slightly on my heels and opened my mouth around the head of his dick, waiting. A careful thrust. I shoved a hand between my thighs, palming myself through my jeans. It wasn't enough, but it was something.

Come on.

He gave another cautious roll of his hips, staring at me. Too much, but God, I didn't want him to stop. Since choking wasn't sexy, I wrapped one hand around the base of his cock to control how far he could take it.

"Okay?" he asked, a gentle murmur.

I pulled back long enough to send him a smile. "Go for it."

As soon as it was out, I sank back down on his cock, and then it was small, hurried thrusts that soon grew erratic, edged with desperation, Liam's half-choked groans mixing with the wet noises I made. Time narrowed to the space between us, ebbing like the tide.

When he tugged on my hair, I drew back just slightly and kept working him with my hand. Somehow, I still wasn't prepared for the warm saltiness coating my tongue. Oh. Liam shuddered with his release as I tried to swallow it all and didn't quite manage, which—fuck, I probably looked a mess, lips swollen and drool on my face. Liam didn't seem to care, though. He dropped to his knees, then pushed me back onto the carpet, following me down as he covered my body with his own. He licked the corner of my mouth before our tongues met in a rough kiss, teeth grazing.

I thrust up a little, but fuck, it wasn't enough. He slapped my hand away when I tried to wedge it between us. Arse. Before I could protest, he moved down my chest, tugging the shirt out of my jeans so he could flatten a hand against my belly, holding me down as he got my jeans and boxers out of the way. No hesitation as he swallowed me all the way, and oh, oh God, holy shit. I was tempted to cover my eyes and stared at him instead—his lashes fanned out against his cheeks, the way his mouth stretched around me.

Fuck, I wasn't going to last. Felt like I'd balanced on the edge for half an eternity already, the tight coil of heat in my stomach spiralling out. I traced his jaw and let my head fall back, thighs spreading wider as I arched up to meet the rhythm of his mouth on me. He pushed me back down. Close, so close. No one had ever—God.

"I'm," I started but couldn't remember the words. He hummed in response.

Everything was heat and darkness, an ocean behind my eyes. I came with a gasp, dimly aware that Liam worked me through it, time stuttering in and out of focus. Then we were kissing again, open mouths and the wet slide of our tongues, my hands in his hair. I could taste myself.

Reality crept back in like a thief, stealing the lethargic sense of calm that had blanketed me. Our kissing slowed, my heart no longer rabbiting in my chest. Liam's body was a solid weight on top of mine, one of my legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs to keep him close.

Silence.

I dropped my leg so he could move away. After a beat, he did—sitting up as he rubbed a hand down his face, his hair a mess from my fingers. Christ, we were both a mess.

What now?

"You okay?" Liam asked slowly, uncertainty fringing the question.

I blinked up at him, thrown. We didn't do this, did we? We didn't…We didn't care.

"I'm okay." My voice felt a tad rough, like I hadn't used it in a while. "You?"

"I'm good."

More silence.

I started to feel awkward lying on my back, dick hanging out, so I tucked myself back in while Liam watched, something careful around his eyes. This time, I broke the silence.

"We should get back to work."

"Yeah." He nodded, but it was another moment before he got to his feet, fixing his clothes as he went. I tried not to stare at his mouth. No one had ever…Well, obviously. Until him, all I'd known were a couple of rushed handjobs in the dark. Just because this was the best I'd ever had didn't mean it was the same for him—it almost certainly wasn't. I was just the latest entry in his long list of hookups. I wasn't special.

Right.

I shoved a hand through my hair, then got to my feet and crossed over to the window, cracking it open to air out the room. When I turned back to Liam, he'd picked up the printouts again, brow furrowed as he studied our slide on water management.

Okay.

Back to work it was.

Fuck.

* * *

At this rate,we'd need another month before we were ready.

It wasn't just Liam's fault either—his tendency to dive headfirst into a sea of details was part of the problem, yes, but so was my desire to show him up. I needed this to work. While he had nothing to lose, I carried the entire legacy and reputation of my family.

But right now, it wasn't working. It didn't help that half my brain was still buzzing, mental replays of earlier hijacking my attention. Liam seemed unaffected—of course he was. What's one more blowjob, right? Resenting him didn't aid my concentration either.

I set the printouts down in a neat stack on the desk. "Let's take a walk."

"A walk?" He made it sound as though I'd suggested a trip to the North Pole.

"A walk, yes." I pushed my chair back and got up, sending him a sharp look. His hair was still dishevelled, the only tangible evidence of what had happened between us. Again.

He remained seated. "We don't have time for a walk. In two days, we have to present this"—he indicated the slides like I'd forgotten—"to the government."

"Tell me something I don't know." I exhaled, dropping my arms. "Look, we've barely made progress in the last hour. We both need some fresh air."

For a beat, he considered me. Then he sighed and got up. "Fine. I guess we can spare fifteen minutes."

Relief eased the tight clench of my chest. God, I really needed to get out of here, breathe for a second so I could pretend it mattered as little to me as it did to him.

I led the way out of my office and along the corridor to the back door, grabbing a coat from one of the hooks there. Liam shrugged into his leather jacket. The moment we stepped outside, blue sky and a symphony of colours greeted us. Despite the season, the lavender was in full bloom, a sea of soft purple hues that swayed in the cool March breeze. Roses added splashes of red, pink, and orange.

"Remind me to get the name of your gardener," Liam said dryly.

I shot him a sidelong glance—the stubborn arch of his nose and his surprisingly long lashes, the generous curve of his upper lip. His leather jacket outlined broad shoulders. "If this goes through," I told him, "you can hire an army of gardeners. You realise that, right?"

He opened his mouth as if to protest, then shrugged and looked away. "First thing I'd do is pay off the house."

"No Porsche?" I asked.

"No."

"A private island where pi?a coladas are served around the clock?"

He snorted. "I'm gay, not the cover model of a tropical paradise brochure."

You look the part, though.

I didn't say that. Instead, I took us on a footpath lined with trimmed hedges and changed the topic. "Just so you know, J. Brown won't be a contractor for the Green Horizon Initiative. My aunt had a serious talk with them." She hadn't been overly enthusiastic about it, granted, but my point that we needed to seem collaborative had resonated. "So maybe you can stop hating me now?"

Liam drew to a stop. I took another couple of steps before I halted as well and turned to face him. Sunlight caught in his eyes. "I don't hate you."

I tilted my head and raised a brow. "Oh?"

"You're just…" He studied me with a narrow gaze, voice quiet enough that it barely rose above the lazy buzz of bees that careened from flower to flower. "You're smug. And entitled. And you use people."

Well, all right. Bring it on.

I crossed my arms and strove for a light, unaffected tone. "I use people?"

A butterfly flitted by while Liam scrutinised me, his expression giving nothing away. "You spoke about five words to me when we were in school together. And then suddenly, that night at the pub, you're ready to acknowledge my existence?" He tipped his chin up. "What, you spotted the token gay boy and decided to have a little fun? And the moment it's done, you kick me out of your car? Real classy."

Jesus.

For weeks following that night, I'd done my best to suppress all memories of it. There was no point in dwelling on things I couldn't have. But even though I'd tried, I hadn't been able to let it go, stuck between fear and a twisted kind of longing each time I thought of Liam's mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the solid pressure of another man up against me. So I'd told Cassandra. No one else knew.

I cleared my throat, a raw taste on my tongue. "I didn't kick you out of my car."

Liam's chuckle was hollow. "Yeah, you did. Barely let me pull up my trousers."

Was he right? I struggled to form clear images in my mind of what had happened after—after he'd come on my face, after he'd got me off and I'd sat up with a sudden sense of doom gripping me.

"I didn't mean to," I said weakly.

"Funny." His tone implied it wasn't. "That's not what it seemed like at the time."

"I panicked." The words were out before I had a chance to censor them. I remembered it now—shadows closing in, and I'd needed to be alone, needed Liam gone so I could put my head between my knees and find a way to keep breathing. Somehow.

"You panicked," Liam echoed. He didn't sound like he quite believed it.

"You knew me, and suddenly, you knew my secret." I dragged in a rough breath, the air scented with the sweet aroma of lavender that mingled with the heady perfume of roses. Sunlight reflected off the manor's windows, too bright in my eyes. "Fuck, Liam. I'm not like you."

He took a moment to react. "What—gay and middle class?"

"No, I mean—I…" It shouldn't be this hard to say it, right? "I'm in the closet. Surely you know that by now."

I'd expected to feel better after getting it out in the open. I didn't.

Liam released a slow breath. "That's a choice."

"Easy for you to say." I tried for a laugh that scraped along the back of my throat, nearly making me choke. "When I say I'm not like you—I mean that I care what people think. Maybe too much. And I've got this whole…legacy resting on my shoulders."

A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the humming bees vibrating in my bones.

"Are you the only powerful mage in your generation?" Liam asked, so quiet I could have pretended to miss it.

How did you know?

I drew a breath and held the air for five, six, seven seconds, then released it slowly. Strange—while I might not like Liam, I trusted him. "You know I have to deny that," I said, just as quietly.

If people realised that we were vulnerable…If I showed any weakness…Gale could become a target. Christian too, and my younger cousins. We'd set up a few situations where my powers were made to look like theirs, casual manipulations of a flame while I seemed occupied with something else. But when push came to shove, it wouldn't protect them.

Liam raised one shoulder in a gentle shrug, his eyes serious. "It's still a choice, you know? I'm not saying it's an easy choice—but it is a choice."

I dug my teeth into my bottom lip, the sting of pain providing a badly needed focal point. "That night at the pub?" I glanced away, bright purple dots swimming in front of my eyes. "I'd come straight off a fight with my father. He wanted to announce the engagement."

"Guess that explains why you were drinking alone." Palpable hesitation coloured Liam's voice. "Does Cassandra know? About you."

"Yeah, she does. Gale too." I aimed for a smile and suspected it turned out like a grimace. "And you, I guess. And whoever you told about…us."

Liam was silent for a few seconds. "So how does that work? With her, I mean. Like, will you marry her eventually?"

Tiredness gripped me and bled into my voice. "I don't know. She's got a boyfriend, though. He's a good bloke." Words tumbled through my brain, and I didn't quite know what point I was trying to make anymore. "But her parents wouldn't like him. Low magic. And he's got an immigration background even if it's third generation, so…"

"Fuck, man." Liam took a step towards me and stopped. "That's quite the golden cage you're trapped in."

No response came to mind, so I shrugged and turned my face away. The sun's brightness stung in my eyes. Toughen up, honey.

I started walking again, and after a moment, Liam fell into step. We were quiet for a minute.

"Why did you steal my client?" he asked then. He sounded curious rather than reproachful, and it made me skip the denial that sat ready on the tip of my tongue.

"I'd just taken over as the public face of the family when you won the contract with the Kellys. I couldn't afford to lose to you."

"That's it?"

A quick glance at his profile revealed a frown, and I sighed. "I also resented you."

"You resented me?" He reached for my elbow and pulled us both to a halt so we were facing each other. "I wasn't the one who started it, that night. Hell, I had no idea you even played for my team. Trust me, I'm not stupid enough to make an unwelcome move on someone who can burn me to a crisp."

That was fair, I guessed. And anyway, what was one more piece of truth?

"Look, don't take this the wrong way, okay? Or like it means more than it does. But I'm not…" I scrubbed a hand down the back of my neck and focused on a point just over his shoulder. "I have very little experience, all right? I'm…recognisable. To people in the community, I mean. So I can't just walk into a gay bar and pick up the first hot guy who catches my eye. You kind of showed me what I'd been missing, and I resented you for it."

"Huh." It was a soft exhalation more than an actual word, but it put me on my guard.

"What?" I said sharply.

"Just processing." Liam's tone was gentle. "So I actually am the best you've ever had?"

There was no mean edge to it this time, so I huffed out a laugh that fluttered in my chest. "Sadly, yes."

Liam's hand was still on my elbow, his touch light. "I had a crush on you, you know?"

That got my attention. My gaze snagged on his mouth for a blink before I met his eyes. Was he having me on? "Really? When?"

"Back in school." Self-deprecation quirked his lips. "Our little pub encounter…I didn't like you very much because of my dad, that part is true. But when you kissed me, it was a bit of a fantasy come true." He paused. "Until you kicked me out of your car like I was dirty laundry, that is."

It didn't quite compute.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"I'm not sure." He dropped his hand, a thoughtful frown flashing over his features. "Because you just told me something real, I think."

I let my gaze slide away, back to the manor that served as a grand backdrop to the beauty of the garden. The thought of returning to my office felt like the thud of a dropped anvil. I turned back to Liam and found him watching me already. For once, it was without hostility.

"Can we break for the day?" I asked him. "Work on our respective parts separately, and tomorrow, we regroup in neutral territory?"

He pursed his mouth. "Neutral?"

"Semi-neutral," I amended. "I've got a flat in Covent Garden. We could meet there."

"Of course you've got a flat in Covent Garden." Liam's tone was wry, but he didn't sound truly exasperated. I suspected that earlier today, before our conversation, he would have.

Maybe this was a fresh start.

"This may come as a surprise to you." I let the words hang between us for a beat, then followed them up with a deliberately smarmy smile. "But I'm rich."

Liam's chuckle turned him from handsome to downright stunning. I stared, caught myself, and looked away.

My life was complicated enough.