Cruel Trust

Eight

"No!"

I sat up in bed, my chest heaving with the sort of fear that only grips you when you're in that place between sleep and consciousness, and you aren't sure what's real.

Feeling a pair of powerful arms wrap around me, I heard a voice thick with sleep murmur, "What? What is it?"

I panicked, slapping at the person who was holding me, my face damp with tears and sweat. I had to fight, had to get away.

He struggled against me and held my arms down. "Shhhh," the low, comforting voice murmured. "Charlotte. You're okay, sweetheart. You're fine."

Liam.

Oh God. "I'm so sorry, Liam," I rasped, my throat sore from screaming. I clung to him, eager now for the comfort found in his embrace.

He pulled me to him. "Shhh, beautiful. You're okay. You had a night terror."

"A what?" I asked, my face muffled into his bare chest.

"A night terror. It's like a nightmare on steroids," he explained.

"Oh my God...it was horrifying." I wiped my eyes with the heels of my hands. "It was like nothing I've ever experienced. It was so real, so vivid."

He nodded, lay back and held his arm up for me to snuggle under. "But you're safe, Charlotte. You're with me," he whispered, kissing the top of my head. Within seconds, I was asleep.

When I woke up again, calm this time, the hazy morning sun was glinting through the blinds. I rolled over to face Liam, but he wasn't there.

I got up and stretched, wearing only the lacy bralette and boy shorts I had fallen asleep in. I padded to the bathroom to do my morning routine. When I walked back into the bedroom, Liam came in, shirtless and delicious.

"Damn, woman. How is it possible you're even more gorgeous in the morning?" He was in front of me in a millisecond, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me as close as possible.

I tried to play cool and rolled my eyes. "My hair is a disaster," I groaned, trying to tame it by pulling it together over my shoulder.

Liam pulled my hands out of my hair, and it fell down my back. "Nonsense. You're perfect." He planted a kiss where the curve of my neck meets my shoulder, all the way across my collarbone to the other side. His kisses didn't stop as he backed me up to the bed and lay me down, holding himself up with one hand on either side of me. With every brush of his lips against my skin, he moved lower, and my need grew. My breath caught in my throat when his mouth grazed the sensitive spot on my belly right under my navel.

I wriggled away from him, a nervous feeling prickling my skin. "I need a shower."

"A shower, huh? Well, I guess I could use one of those too," he said with a wicked grin, and the next thing I knew, he was throwing me over his shoulder and taking me to the bathroom.

"Liam!" I squealed, grabbing him around his waist.

"What? I've been told that my shower is confusing and hard to operate. I'm only looking out for you," he said, flipping me back over his shoulder and onto the bench in the back of the shower.

"Oh? Who tells you that? All your girlfriends?" I teased, pulling my knees to my chest and crossing my feet in front of me.

Liam cocked a brow and stepped toward me, pushing his pajama bottoms down over his hips and kicking them onto the tile in the bathroom. My lips parted as I forced my eyes up to his face.

"Charlotte Jameson, you are the only girl in my bed...or my shower," he murmured as he put his hands on my knees and pushed my feet to the floor.