COMA | ziam

3: In My Bed

I shouldn't be so enthralled with the way my boss had looked at me, as I forced myself across the hall upstairs with a man attached to my side. He is so intoxicated that I almost want to call the Ambulance just in case, but it didn't seem like anything new to him. I knew if I called, there would be a story out the next day about what was hidden in the household of the Payne's and that's the last thing he wants. There was always a new article about the family, but it was carefully monitored by the Mr. Payne with what came through to Elliot. The days I've known the man seemed to just become a game of secrets, picking out who's who and what went on under those dark eyes. His distance had me being unconsciously concerned for the trouble that sometimes made it's appearance, and it was one of those nights where it did. Away from Elliot's presence, of course. Even when he's wasted, he is still tip toeing around his child's room that seemed so far away from his own.

Then there was moments where we seemed so far from distant. When he would glare at Harry for having a laugh with me and I wondered if it was just professionalism or something else.

The light is flicked on so that the vast room with an endless bed sitting by two sets of windows looking out onto the street is illuminated. The room seemed messier today with clothes strewn across the floor. I don't bother the investigation, even when I spot a red bra poking out from the laundry basket. I'm in no power to feel bitter towards his private life, I just have to keep this family afloat. And I though it would be essentially his child I'm looking after, maybe it was the boy's father as well.

Liam has his large hands roaming my torso as I make it my objective to push him down onto the bed. But it becomes very aware to me that this man was double my size and had a pack of strength that would never be rendered with. I can't help but to find myself reddening when he grasps the back of my thighs to pull me closer to him, instinctively letting out a hitched breath and a hardening cock below.

I doubt he's even aware of his touches and the affect he has on my body, as he pull my legs further apart so that a shallow whine leaves my throat that is silenced by my teeth digging into my bottom lip. And then there's his lips that looked like they were made for kissing, finding their way onto my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses. His nose edging across the sensitive flesh that hit me in my closeted desires like he knew how tempted I was. Even at the point where he is now, seeming like his blood type may as well be Smirnoff Vodka at this point. He somehow still is the most desirable man I had ever been with. His hands swiftly glide across my back, under my shirt so that I'm arching into his grasp, writhing out for him, my fingers carding through his hair. He handled me hungrily with his lips so delicate, as I let out a hushed moan.

I can't believe how little self control I have, even when it comes to my new Boss. I shouldn't be so excited by the way he is looking at me right now, because this is what drunk people do, they get horny and will fuck anything that steps into their region. I'm just here, me, someone who couldn't even remember the last time I had good sex, and him, holding me so close to him after he had been hung up on by the unknown mother of his child. His eyes are so glassy and his eyelashes are so hard not to focus on, even when there's a street just by his window where anyone could peak into. But I can't do this anymore, this is so wrong. Even when it feels so right, like a snap of relief from the pressure growing in my chest.

"Liam- M-Mr. Payne. You need to go to bed." My voice deceives me when I whimper out his name, pathetically. Lucky the door is shut but I know Elliot won't hear anything, regardless.

Suddenly there's a playful look on his handsome face and I'm like a legless rag doll as he tugs me towards his bed. I can't believe I actually thought I could put this man to bed when I can't even run to the corner store without feeling like I might have a stroke. My arms and legs were awkwardly skinny for a guy and it had been an insecurity I had for years. But those thoughts seem to wash away with the way he stares at me.