Takedown Teague (Caged #1)(74)

“Liam.” Tria chastised me as she reached her limit.

“You didn’t give me any rules yet,” I reminded her. I didn’t move my hands up any farther, but I kept them on the bare skin of her sides as I kissed down her neck. The backs of my fingers tickled her sides. “Besides, you’ve seen me without a shirt. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t even think you owned a shirt for the longest time.” She giggled as she tilted her head back so I could kiss up the front of her throat.

“You liked me that way, too, didn’t you?” My words were a challenge.

“I don’t have to say,” she replied with a shrug.

“You wanted to run your hands all over this, didn’t you?” I said as I grabbed her wrists and placed her hands on my stomach. I moved them up slowly until I reached the top of my chest, where I let her go. I angled my body forward so more of it was touching her, and her hands pressed on my shoulders as she laughed again.

“I’m sure I just wanted to feel your hair!”

“It wasn’t this short then.”

“Oh yeah.” More giggles.

“You are a terrible liar,” I said. “Besides, I know what you really want. You want your hand on my cock.”

I pressed against her a little more.

“You can, you know,” I whispered. “Any time you want—it’s just waiting for you.”

Before she had a chance to shove me away or just tell me to shut up, a knock at the door made her jump. I growled under my breath.

“Did you order breakfast?” I asked.

“No,” Tria said. “I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“Fucking housekeeping.” I grumbled as I released Tria and stomped toward the door.

The latches were far more complicated than they needed to be, and I was already pissed off before I got them unlocked. I flung the door open, prepared to tell some bitch in an apron to go f*ck off. Instead, I was met with Michael standing on the other side.

“What the f*ck?”

“Well, I figured something interesting must be happening,” Michael said with a shrug. “For all these years, you’ve never accepted any kind of handout. I had to come see for myself.”

Michael stepped around me and entered the suite just as Tria was straightening her shirt. She was still sitting on the desk, and her cheeks flushed bright red as he took in the sight.

“Seriously, Liam?” he said as he turned back to me. “All this just for a hooker? I thought something horrible must have—”

Without any consideration at all, I hauled back my right hand and slammed my fist into his jaw. Michael spun to one side before he dropped to the floor beside me, half in and half out of the room. He glanced up at me and rubbed his chin.

“Liam, no!” Tria cried from across the room. She jumped off the desk and headed toward us.

“Don’t you ever f*cking talk about her like that!” I screamed at him.

“Holy shit,” Michael muttered. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

He looked up at me as he got himself back to a sitting position and then used the doorjamb to help right himself. He stood and dusted off his Dockers.

“Say another f*cking word about her, and you’ll get more,” I promised.

“Is that so?” He looked from me to Tria and then back to me again. “Well, I guess this is more interesting than I originally assumed. Do I get an introduction?”

“No,” I said flatly.

“Liam…” Tria reached my side and took hold of my arm before she turned to Michael. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, dear,” he responded with a crooked half smile, “though it is the first time I’ve ever been on the receiving end of one of those. You are pretty impressive with the fists, Liam. I have to admit, I didn’t completely understand that by just watching you hit other people.”

Tria gripped my hand and looked at me pointedly.

I rolled my eyes at them both.

“Tria, this is my uncle, Michael. He’s the one who thinks one night in a hotel at his expense warrants a plane trip, apparently. Michael, this is Tria…my, um…”

I stopped and glanced down at her for a second.

“My girlfriend,” I finally added.

Michael’s eyes went wide as he reached out and shook Tria’s hand briefly.

“A pleasure,” he said. “Unexpected, to be sure, but definitely a pleasure.”

“Fuck off. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see what was wrong,” he replied. “I figured you were in some kind of trouble, not on a date.”

“It’s not a f*cking date.”

“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “I’m starving. Have you had breakfast? I understand the crepes are excellent here, and I’m sure the chef would do you a veggie version.”

I was never one to give into Michael’s schemes, but I was hungry.





Chapter 20—Reach the Destination


Room service arrived with a variety of breakfast dishes, which they set out on the table with linen napkins, mimosas, and polished flair. Tria sat next to me with Michael on the other side. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her, which was pissing me off. I was inclined to hit him again, but I didn’t.