Devil For A Husband

Cali

“What are you doing here, Calista?” I narrow my eyes at him and the way he says my full name, fully aware of how much I hate it. Then again, this is Liam we’re talking about, the guy who does everything he can to get under my skin.

“Your mother sent me,” I answer, a bit of defiance in my voice, as I sit back in the chair, across from him, and cross one of my legs over the other. Liam doesn’t know why I’m here, which means Kayley, his mother, didn’t talk to him like she was supposed to. Looks like I have to break the news to him.

“My mother should know that I have a busy schedule and don’t have time to entertain teenagers.” He stares at me intensely with those deep blue eyes that I’ve come to have a love-hate relationship with.

Or maybe that’s just the relationship I have with him.

“You’re funny,” I say, sarcastically. “I’m twenty-four now, you know.”

“Really?” He asks as if that’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “You don’t act it.”

“That’s not what you were saying when your tongue was halfway down my throat last year,” I remind him.

His eyes widen, with shock, before he’s frowning. “We agreed never to bring that up again,” he growls, which sends a shiver down my spine and not in a bad way. No matter how many times he tells me to forget about that ‘kiss that doesn’t mean anything’, I can’t. Maybe because kissing him was the first time that I actually felt something with a guy, even if it was one I usually couldn’t stand to be around for more than a few minutes at a time. “Besides, I was drunk.”

“I wasn’t.” I remember it all so vividly.

“What do you want? A reward?” His anger gets the best of him. “If you don’t need anything, get the hell out of my office.”

This is how most of our conversations end up going. Liam’s thirty-six now, but I’ve found a way to agitate him since he was sixteen. Call it a gift. Ironic how he can dish it all day long but can’t take it.

“Keep talking to me like that, and I’ll tell your mom,” I threaten.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“I’ll make sure to tell her that.”

Liam stares at me blankly, for a moment before talking again. “What do you want, Calista?”

His patience is wearing thin. I close my eyes. What’s the best way to say this? “We’re getting married,” I blurt out, looking at him from underneath my lashes to see how he’s going to handle the news.

Not well.

Liam is quiet, looking at me as if I’ve grown a second head before throwing his head back and laughing. It’s hearty, deep, and genuine, a sound that I never get to hear. Is it bad that I wish I could hear it more? When he laughs, he doesn’t seem as gloomy and tired as normal.

It’s a minute or two before he finally quiets down, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Sorry,” he apologizes, which is the first time he’s ever done that. “I thought I heard you tell a joke, and it was hilarious. Who knew you could be so funny?”

“You heard me right.” I cross my arms against my chest. “And, it’s not a joke.”

“Calista, be real.”

“I am being real.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Why not? I have to be better than the whores you spend all your time with.”

Liam Merrin is a big name because he took over the company that his mother started when she was nothing but a teenager. He’s rich, famous, hot, and single, so it’s no surprise that he occasionally finds himself on the covers of magazines, sometimes as an eligible bachelor and sometimes with his slut of the week.

“I don’t spend my time with whores.”

“Do they prefer to be called sluts instead?” I ask, sarcastically.

“You wish you were one of them.” He raises an eyebrow at me, a smirk on his face.

“In your dreams.”

“How do you know what I dream about?”

I change the subject. “Your mom was supposed to tell you.”

“Ah, so she’s in on this little joke, too?”

I won’t lie. In the past, Kayley and I have played some wicked jokes on Liam, like the time we convinced him he was dying with a disease that didn’t exist or the time we filled his smoothie with dirt instead of chocolate. But, this is hardly one of those times.

“It feels like I’m talking to a toddler.” I sigh, aggravated that I keep having to repeat myself. “We’re not joking. You and I are getting married unless you want to kiss your lavish lifestyle goodbye.”

His face turns serious. “You’re trying to threaten me?”

“No!” I exclaim. “This comes directly from your mom.”

“And what would it benefit my mother for me to marry you?”

I open my mouth before closing it back, debating my answer. I could tell him the truth, but heaven knows what he would do or say. It’s not like I can lie either, though. All of the time we’ve spent together has made it fairly easy for him to tell when I’m lying and when I’m not. “You would have to ask her,” I settle on, finally.

Liam doesn’t say anything, as our eyes meet. I won’t lie. Despite how much I may not like him, I do have to admit that he’s, honestly, gorgeous. I understand why women flock to him like bugs to a light. With amazing semi-tan skin, cheekbones that could cut wood, dark hair, blue eyes, and muscles for days, he’d draw any woman’s eye in a crowd.

“Did you plan this?” His voice is quiet, calculating, downright scary.

“Plan what?” I frown. “Marrying you? No, there are rocks I’d marry first.”

“Then say ‘no’.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’m about to make it that easy.”

“Do that, and she’s taking everything from you. This business, your money, all of the things you own.”

He scoffs. “And why would she do that?”

“Because she wants you to marry me.”

“You of all people? Why?”

“I’m probably the only girl in the world who won’t fall for your advances or take your shit.”

“There’s something else,” he accuses, not fully believing me which makes sense because I’m not fully telling him the truth.

“Why would you…?”

“Don’t lie to me, Calista.”

I swallow, his gaze making me feel like a deer in the headlights. I shouldn’t be intimidated by this man, but, sometimes, he makes me feel like…well, I wish that I could explain it.

“Kayley’s sick of seeing you in the magazines with different women and having her business be related to a playboy.” The words come out quickly, before I can stop them, and once they’re said, I know they were a mistake.

He’s bristling with anger. “Who does she think she is?” He pushes his chair back and stands up, slamming his fists against the table which makes me jump. I’ve seen him angry plenty of times, but furious…this is a first. “She can’t take everything that I’ve worked hard for.”

Yes, she can, she’s the president. I want to say my thoughts out loud, but something tells me that would be a mistake.

Liam’s eyes narrow on me. “And what do you get out of it?”

“That’s none of your business,” I snap.

He moves, almost quicker than I can blink, on his knees in front of me. One of his hands finds my thighs, gripping it tightly while the other one grabs ahold of my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

My heart rate accelerates. I don’t want it to, but it’s not something I can control. We’re so close that we’re breathing the same air. Everywhere that he touches me lights a fire along my skin. Touch me more. Everywhere.

“What has my mother promised you?” His voice is a whisper, as he bends down, his lips pressed right against my ear, warm breath flowing down my neck.

What is this man doing to me?

“Liam…” It’s a warning, I think.

“Whatever she’s offered you, I can double it, triple it even.”

It’s not like that. “Liam…”

His hand moves further up my thigh, and my eyes flutter shut. “Or, maybe it’s not the money you want?” he suggests. “Maybe, it’s something else?” His fingertips are so close to my pussy that I’m sure he can feel the heat through my thin panties. I find myself wishing that I hadn’t worn a dress today. His lips are just about kissing my neck, and I feel like I’m paralyzed, waiting for the next move, craving it.

“Still think that you’d be able to resist my advances?” He uses my own words against me which seems to snap me out of whatever hypnotic state that he’s put me in.

I yank my leg away from his grip and use both of my hands to push his shoulders as hard as I can, giving me enough space to slip from in between him and the chair. “You know what, you’re just as much of a dick as you were in college.”

“You know what they say about dicks.” He looks unphased.

“Call your mother!” I snap and turn towards the door, walking out before he can stop me, not like he’s trying to, and slamming the door behind me.

Liam

One Year Ago

“Molly is going to kill me, man,” Jasper whispers, his voice a slur. His eyes and cheeks are the same shade of red, hair slicked back because of all the sweat. He’s never been the type to hold his alcohol well, yet he insists on coming to the bar every now and then to improve that. I don’t see why it’s such an important skill to have, honestly.

I drink to forget how hollow my life is sometimes.

“You’re gonna have to leave the car here,” Stefan informs him, sitting back with his legs propped up against a chair. Despite the six glasses of beers that he’s had, he looks relatively unphased. I guess that’s what happens when you start drinking at nine years old and taking care of your mom every time she came home shit faced.

“Oh no,” Jasper gasps. “Then how will I get home?”

“I’ll take you,” I volunteer, more than tipsy myself. Things have been hard lately and when they hit me up, inviting me to drink, well, it’s the break that I needed this week. Between work and women, my life couldn’t be more of a mess. “You’re not far from my house.”

“Nobody’s gonna steal my car?”

“I didn’t say that.” I snort. “I’m sure someone will try. It’s foreign.” Jasper is just as rich as I am, if not more, and more materialistic than I could ever be. He grew up rich, the same way I did.

“Molly’s gonna kill me.” He finishes off the rest of his beer before putting his chin on the table. He looks like he’s about to pass out any minute. “Just a beer or two I told her.” He laughs, ironically. “How many have I had?”

“Five,” Stefan answers, picking up the pitching we ordered for the table and pouring himself another glass. From what he’s told me, this last month or so hasn’t exactly been easy on him, either, so it didn’t surprise me that he was just as eager to come out as I was.

“Geez.” He lays his head face down on the table and closes his eyes as if that’ll magically make him stop being drunk.

Stefan directs his attention to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Affected.”

He smiles, putting the beer to his lips, as he looks around. The bar is pretty packed tonight which makes sense given that it’s the weekend. The music is blaring and would probably be killing our ears if not for the fact that Stefan owns the place and got us in the quietest booth in the place, behind the velvet rope, designated for VIPs.

“Wow,” Stefan whistles, eyes on something, or rather, someone at the bar. “Isn’t she a looker?”

I turn to see what he’s looking at and am not disappointed. She’s nothing short of delicious. Her dark brown, shoulder length hair is curled and bouncy with every movement she makes. The dress that she’s wearing almost gives me a boner, not just because of how revealing it is, although trust me, it is, but also because of the way she wears it with pride and with nothing to hide.

The dress is black with a large v-neck that shows off her ample, plump breasts. It’s so short that if she bends down, I’m sure I’ll be able to see every inch of her.

But seeing’s not enough for me. I want to feel, to taste.

“They don’t make them like that anymore,” Stefan comments.

“No, they don’t.” I drink the rest of the beer in my glass before setting it down. Jasper has fully gone to sleep now, evident by the way he’s snoring. “Someone has to stay and watch him,” I nod towards him.

Stefan raises an eyebrow at me. “Rock, paper, scissors for the girl?”

It’s childish but fair. I hold my hand out. “Rock, papers, scissors,” we both call at the same time before making a shape. Stefan’s hand is formed into paper, but I picked scissors which means I win.

I smirk. “Better luck next time.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I get up from the booth and move towards her, my dick twitching in my pants. It’s been a long time since I’ve come alive because of a woman. Most of them have been far too boring as of lately. She’s just the pick me up I needed.

One of her friends is with her, dressed even more scandalously than her, if that’s even possible, but she has her focus diverted to two boys who hardly look like they know their left from their right.

I sit down beside her. “A jack and coke,” I instruct the bartender. “And whatever the lady’s been drinking.”

That catches her attention, and she turns around to look at me, letting me see her face for the first time. It’s far from a disappointment. Her face is round with a small nose and even, thin eyebrows. She has on the perfect amount of makeup, enhancing her beauty but not overpowering it although something tells me that this girl doesn’t need makeup anyway. She looks like the naturally beautiful type.

There’s something strangely familiar about her, as if I’ve met her before.

“Liam?” The second my name leaves those lips, I understand why I recognized her.

Calista Yorke, a little girl I’ve known practically since she was born is standing in front of me, except she’s not so little anymore. If anyone would have told me that this is what she’d look like, I wouldn’t have believed them. She was pudgy back then with crooked teeth, red cheeks, and scraggly hair.

That’d all changed.

Now her hair is styled beautifully, teeth perfectly straight, and she’s lost quite a bit of weight.

I never would have thought I’d run into her again at a bar of all places. Our two families have always been connected because of our moms being business partners and best friends. She’s never been anything more to me than an annoyance. Until now.

“Calista?”

“Cali,” she corrects me. “Although you usually say what you want anyways.”

She’s right. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyebrows furrow playfully. “I can’t be here?”

“I didn’t say that, I just…”

“I am an adult now, you know. They let you enter bars at twenty-three.”

Twenty-three years old, still far younger than I should be entangled with. “Still have that smart ass mouth on you, huh?”

She beams. “Of course.” I can see her looking me up and down from the corner of my eye when the bartender hands us our drinks. “What are you doing here? Oh, let me guess, looking for someone to take home?” She cocks her head to the side and swirls her tongue in her glass.

“Perhaps,” I answer, nonchalantly. “You?”

She shrugs. “Maybe I’m doing the same.”

For whatever reason, her answer makes me bristle. I don’t want another man to put his hands on her, touch her, kiss her, fuck her the way that I want to. I know it’s wrong, but what’s one night?

One unforgettable night.

“Don’t do that,” I warn her, my voice lowered a couple octaves, as I stare at her.

“And why not?”

“If you want someone to go home with, why not me?” It’s not the way I meant to ask, but the cats are out of the bag now.

She snorts a little laugh. “Why you? You’ve always reminded me just how much you hate me.”

“Don’t be dramatic, we haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Oh, now I look good, and it’s worth it?”

I’m beginning to remember why the two of us could never be in a room together without arguing. “Instead, go home with the first guy you see and wind up with an STD,” I suggest. “Or better yet, pregnant.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “You’re just not my type.”

I know she’s lying. She always bites her bottom lip when she is. Besides, there aren’t many women who can resist my charm, and those who do certainly aren’t looking me over like I’m a piece of meat.

Without saying anything, I grab the back of her head, lean forward, and press my lips against hers before she can complain or tell me not to. She squeaks into the kiss and battles me for a moment before melting against me, her tongue submissive against mine. She tastes sweet, like pineapple, which makes me wonder what she tastes like in other places. One of her hands rests on my chest, and she starts to kiss me back, more vehemently.

I pull away, our lips still close, smirking. “Want to reconsider my offer, princess?”

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