Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(55)

“This holiday is for both of us; I want to spend time with her.”

“And I said I’m selfish. I want you. Yes, I know Ella is part of the package; but come on, you deserve to be Cerys, and not Ella’s mum round the clock.”

Especially when you look like you do and I haven’t had you in my bed for over a week. Her tight shirt across the tits I constantly get admonished for staring at and the ‘too short’ shorts begging me to slide my hands across her ass are distracting me from the argument. This woman needs to loosen up.

Cerys makes an exasperated noise, turns on her heel, and heads in the direction Emily went. She pauses. The TV screen dominates one wall, and Ella is lying back in a leather recliner chair with a cup of something I hope she’s allowed to drink in the holder next to her. Emily is in the next seat and they both sing along to the Disney movie filling the room with a brightness Cerys doesn’t match.

I warily look at Cerys. “At least you get a break from this. How many times have you watched this movie now?”

She doesn’t speak but leaves the room. Her bare feet slap across the floor as she heads toward the wide marble staircase.

“Cerys!”

I find her in the bedroom where the white sheets are crumpled from her afternoon sleep. Cerys gazes out of the window at the ocean vista. When I walk over and touch her shoulder, she turns a tear streaked face to me. I run my hands across my head.

“f-uck, Cerys, did I screw up that bad? I did this to make you happy, and now you’re f-ucking crying!”

I sit on the edge of the bed, placing my hands on the cool linen. I will spend my life trying, but I doubt I will ever understand women. There’s nothing complicated here, surely.

Cerys doesn’t respond.

Jesus, I give up. “Fine. I’ll tell Emily to leave. She wasn’t staying today anyway. I wanted you to meet her and chat and see if you liked her.” I stand.

“Liam, wait.” Cerys wipes her face. “I’m overreacting. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better. This was a shock; you should know by now how cautious I am about Ella.”

“And everything,” I mutter. Common sense kicks in and I don’t elaborate, the mood she’s in Cerys would no doubt pack and leave if this descends any further.

“This is all surreal to me, Liam, and I’m anxious about being out of my depth. Here, with you, caring so much about you...you doing things like this and showing how much you care, too. It scares the crap out of me.”

“Oh, Cerys.” I go to her and attempt to hug her stiff figure. “Let go for a few days. Live. Be you. Enjoy this.”

Cerys wraps her arms around my waist. I place my head on her soft hair. This is what I crave more than anything in the world, holding Cerys and being with her, making memories and loving her. “I’m tired and not thinking. It would’ve been better if you’d warned me.”

“I told you I was selfish,” I say.

“No, you’re not selfish. You were thinking of me.”

“I am. I was thinking of me and you. I want us time.” I draw back and trace a finger from her cheek to her collarbone. “I was thinking about me and how much time I want alone with you.”

Her lips part as I continue to run my fingers along her skin, skimming the soft swell of her b-reasts. She catches my hand. “I have a whole two weeks’ worth of bad things I want to do to you,” I say. “Plus, I’m now frustrated with you too, which makes this worse.”

A hint of a smile hovers around Cerys’s mouth and she circles my arm with her hand. “I feel the same, but not now.”

I want to groan inwardly but the sound escapes. “Really?”

“Really.” Cerys places a finger on my lips and her tired eyes meet mine. “If Ella likes Emily, we can have lots of ‘us’ time.”

“I’m sure she will; I think they hit it off.” Us time, now. But this isn’t going to happen. Cerys isn’t in the frame of mind for what I want to do to her; and with Cerys, it matters.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, touching my face.

“What for?”

Cerys smiles in the coy way that turns me the f-uck on without her realising; and when she says the next words, she triggers all kinds of ball-aching thoughts. “For knowing when to hold my hand, and when to pull my hair.”

Oh, holy f-uck do I want to be the guy who pulls her hair. I grip Cerys to me, inhaling her scent as if for some crazy reason that’ll calm me down. “Lie down with me,” I say hoarsely, “I promise to leave your hair alone.”

Cerys nudges her nose into my chest, suppressing a giggle. “Okay.”

I release her, because if I drag her onto the bed with me, I’m not going to remain gentle. Instead, I lie on the rumpled sheets and she snuggles into me, spooning as she takes my arms to wrap around her. I take a calming breath and make do with a gentle nip of her neck and touch of her skin beneath her cotton top.

I want to tell Cerys that I love her, but the words aren’t enough. I’m not Dylan, I can’t express myself through poetic songs. What if she doesn’t feel the same and I scare her? What I do know is that the fire she ignited with the kiss at Christmas burns deep inside my soul and, as I hold her warm body against mine, I know nothing will ever extinguish how I feel about Cerys.

CHAPTER 23