Page 31 of Longing for Liberty
Was he suspicious? Did he think I’d been listening?
“No worries,” I said. “Please be careful not to slip.” I moved aside so he could pass to his room, but he didn’t move. My abdomen squeezed with nervousness as he stared at me.
“You’re sweating.” His eyes roamed down my neck, over my loose hair, and my body immediately responded in a way I wished it wouldn’t.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Mopping always does that.” I waved it away.
“And your hair…” His husky voice trailed off.
“My hairband broke,” I explained, not wanting him to think I was purposely trying to be cute.
His eyes flicked to my eyes. “Take off your top, Liberty. That will cool you off.”
My top? Oh, no. Something somersaulted inside of me, and my heart rate quickened. Here it was, the moment I’d been expecting and dreading for weeks. I’d wondered how long it would take.
He had the nerve to appear slightly amused by my shock.
“Please, sir,” I said with an embarrassing tremble in my voice. “I’m fine like this.”
“One button at a time.” He gave a nod down to my throat.
I froze, staring straight into his bright eyes, my brain trying to find a way out of this. He said nothing more, just patiently waited. Something told me no matter how long I stood there challenging him with my eyes, he could go for longer. In that moment, I knew…I knew there was no way out of this. All hope from earlier in the day fled, leaving me with a resolve. If I fought this, I would be in trouble, and trouble these days could mean anything from a work prison to death. This was how I would keep Jeremy and myself safe. This was how we lived another day.
My hands slowly raised to the top button and pushed it through. Approval shone in Amos’s eyes as he continued to hold mine, not looking away as my hands drifted down the row of buttons. When they were all undone, I slowly opened it, feeling the cool air-conditioned air against my heated skin. I shivered, and the Secretary made a deep sound at the back of his throat. When the top came off, he took it from me and held it. I stood before him in the hideous, dingy white cotton bra they issued all women.
“Are you okay?” he asked. I hadn’t been expecting the gentleness or the question.
“Yes, sir,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t.
I wasn’t okay. I felt…too much.
He studied my eyes and gave a single nod. “Now the bra.”
The air conditioning, along with the way he looked at me, made that sensation in my core come to life again, but I couldn’t study how that made me feel at the moment. I needed to be numb.
I reached back and unclasped my bra, shrugging my shoulders forward so it would fall into my waiting hands. I felt my nipples immediately tighten. Amos took the bra, and finally, his eyes lowered. I wondered what he saw. The bones in my chest and ribs were slightly visible. My chest, which had always been small, had grown just enough to nurse my children but had always shrunk back. And now they were a soft, small B cup. They wouldn’t even be a handful for him.
But as I waited for him to touch me, he didn’t.
He stared. Appraised. Without moving.
I clasped my hands in front of my apron, awkward as ever, and made the mistake of glancing at his pants, where the crotch had gone tight with a massive bulge. I closed my eyes a moment, feeling my core pulse, before daring to look at him once more.
“I’ll ask you again, Liberty.” His guttural voice feathered across my skin. “Do you want me?”
I looked at this man, who, in so many ways was larger than life. I wondered how his large hands would feel on me. I wondered how his mouth would taste compared to Jeremy’s. I wondered how much power was in his arms and legs and hips. And yes, my body felt something that I didn’t want to feel—the anticipation and curiosity causing me to breathe in quick spurts. I hated myself for it. The shame hit me, and I made an accidental sound. I looked at the ground and frantically shook my head back and forth.
“Hm.” The sound was quiet. “I’ll let you get back to work then.”
The bastard walked to his room, taking my top and bra with him, leaving me to mop his floors while topless. It probably took a full minute for me to get my bearings and continue the task at hand. As I got back to mopping, feeling aroused and annoyed and sensitive, Amos walked past me without a word or a glance, back to his spot at the dining table, where I soon heard him clicking away, typing.
Was he going to keep ignoring me while I worked with my tits out? Was he going to suddenly swoop over and take me against the wall? I let out a string of swear words against him in my mind for putting me in this mental and physical turmoil.
Mop, mop, mop.My arms burned. My hair tickled my skin and stuck to my neck and upper back, where sweat still accumulated.
The only good thing about this awkward situation was that it was much cooler without that stupid, thick top.
When I finished, ending in the kitchen, I took everything for his dinner out and started prepping while the floors dried. Every now and then I sensed him watching me, and it felt like electricity under my skin. I wanted to rub my hands over every exposed surface of my body to make the sensation calm down and go away. When I felt his eyes, I wanted to cover my chest with my arms, but I forced myself to just keep going.
