Chapter 34: The Aftermath.

Liam stood frozen in the middle of his living room.

The door was closed. Vanessa was gone. But her presence lingered—the faint floral scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin still pressed against his memory, the ghost of her thigh sliding between his legs.

His cock throbbed aggressively.

"Fuck," Liam muttered, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.

He was extremely sexually frustrated. More than he had been in weeks. Rachel had satisfied him, sure. But Rachel was soft, nurturing, gentle. Vanessa was something else entirely. She had teased him. And then she had reminded him of Sara.

"

She is just like her,"

Liam thought. "

The manipulation, the mind games, the way she knew exactly what to say to make my blood boil."

But that was where the comparison ended.

Sara had been obvious. Clumsy, even. Her gold-digging ways had been visible to everyone except Liam. But Vanessa? Vanessa was surgical, precise. She had pressed his buttons like she had read the instruction manual.

"She’s dangerous," Liam admitted.

And that was what made his body react the way it did.

Liam walked to the couch and sat down heavily. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. His breathing was shallow. His heart was racing. And between his legs, his erection showed no signs of retreating.

"I cannot act out of character," he told himself. "I cannot do anything that will jeopardize my future."

There were too many things at stake. The firm he wanted to build, the system he needed to maximize, the record he had to keep absolutely clean. One wrong move—one accusation, one scandal, one moment of weakness—and everything he was working toward would crumble.

"No younger women" Liam reminded himself. "No drama. No games."

But Vanessa wasn’t older. She was his age, maybe a year or two younger. And the games? She had made it clear she was willing to play.

Liam kissed his teeth in irritation.

He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes while taking deep breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth. He needed to calm down and think clearly.

"Imagine something disgusting," he thought. "I need something that will kill this erection immediately."

He pictured a trash can full of rotting food, maggots crawling over spoiled meat, and the smell of something that had died in a wall.

His cock twitched but didn’t deflate.

"Harder," Liam thought. "Imagine something worse."

He pictured Sara. Not the version of her that smiled and moaned and rode him like a woman possessed. The other version. The one who had laughed while Richard beat him in that parking lot. The one who had recorded his humiliation on her phone. The one who had drained his accounts and called him a loser.

"That’s my ex-girlfriend," Liam reminded himself. "That’s what Vanessa reminds me of."

His erection began to soften but the fact that it did showed his attraction to Sara was all but gone in this phrase of his life.

It started slowly, then faster before the blood retreated from his groin, leaving behind a dull ache of unfulfilled desire. Liam exhaled, long and slow, and felt his body return to something resembling normal.

"Thank God," he muttered.

He sat up straight and ran a hand over his face.

Despite everything—despite the teasing, the frustration, the way Vanessa had made his body betray him—things were going according to plan. Not exactly the way he had expected. But progress was progress.

He had made her an offer. A real one. Numbers, timeline, equity split. She had asked for a proposal, and he would deliver. That was the next step.

"She’s interested," Liam realized. "Not just in the business opportunity. In me."

The thought should have worried him. Instead, it thrilled him.

Liam stood up and walked to his desk. He opened his laptop and stared at the blank document. The proposal needed to be perfect and detailed enough to impress her. Ambitious enough to make her believe. Realistic enough to be believable.

He could have it done in a few hours. Maybe less.

"One step at a time," Liam told himself. I need you to focus on the business. The rest will follow."

But as he began to type, he couldn’t shake the memory of her breasts pressing against his chest. The warmth of her thigh between his legs. The way she had whispered in his ear.

" I will be seeing you again, Liam."

"Yeah," Liam muttered to himself. "You will."

-

Vanessa’s heels clicked against the pavement as she walked toward her car.

Each step was measured and controlled. The same confident stride she had used walking into Liam’s apartment. The same poised demeanor she had maintained through every sip of wine, every touch, every calculated tease.

But inside?

Inside, she was screaming.

"

What did I just do?"

She reached her car—a sleek white BMW, leased, because she couldn’t afford to buy—and fumbled with her keys. Her fingers trembled, the key scratched against the door panel twice before she finally got it into the lock.

Vanessa threw herself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

The silence of the car enveloped her.

And then she lost it.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a breathless whisper. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her knuckles turning white. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

"

What possessed me? What the hell came over me?"

She had gone in there with a plan. A simple plan. Be charming, be flirtatious and get him to say yes to the New York offer. That was it.

She had not planned to raise her top or even had any idea Liam would be so crase to make such a request.

She had not planned to press her thigh between his legs.

She had not planned to grind her ass against his bulge like some kind of... like some kind of...

Vanessa dropped her forehead against the steering wheel.

"I can’t believe you did that," she muttered to herself. "Vanessa. I really cannot believe you did that."

This wasn’t her.

She was never one to be impusive, she used her body, sure—but always within limits. A glance here. A touch there. Enough to make men interested, never enough to make them think she was easy.

But Liam?

Liam had undone her.

Something about his composure. His refusal to react the way she expected. The way he had looked at her—not like a hungry dog, but like a man who saw right through her.

It had made her want to prove something.

"

To whom?"

she thought

"Him? Or myself?"

Vanessa sat up and looked at herself in the rearview mirror.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes—those green eyes that had charmed so many men—were wide, almost panicked.

"You are a mess," she told her reflection.

She reached for her phone. Her fingers were still shaking as she scrolled to Penina’s contact and pressed call.

It rang once, twice then three times.

[Voicemail

.]

["Hey, this is Penina. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. Or don’t. I’m not your mother."]

Beep

.

Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. What was she supposed to say? "Hey, I just showed my tits to a client and then I dry-humped him against his door. Call me back."

She ended the call without leaving a message.

Penina was at work anyway. She wouldn’t answer. And maybe that was for the best.

Vanessa dropped her phone into her purse and leaned back against the headrest.

Her heart was still racing. But slowly—very slowly—her breathing began to normalize.

"I can still salvage this," she told herself. "I set the terms. I asked for a proposal. I didn’t give in completely."

But even as she thought it, she knew she was lying.

She had given in.

Not completely but enough.

And the worst part? She wanted to do it again.

Vanessa started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, her mind still spinning, her body still humming with the memory of his hands on her wrist, his chest pressing against hers, the sound of his groan when she had rubbed against him.