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“Olive.” He moaned my name over and over as he thrust into my body, holding me close like I mattered to him. Like this was more than scratching an itch.
“Yes, Liam. Yes!” I whispered the words in his ear, punctuating them by stroking my tongue up the length of his earlobe and then down the column of his neck. “Salty, but good.”
At my words, he held me tighter and deepened his strokes until I purred and vibrated against him. It was the kind of sex that a girl could easily confuse for making love, the way his hand stroked my hair, the way his hazel gaze looked at me with such affection, the way he kissed me so passionately. The gentle way his hand slid up my thigh and lifted it higher on his hips. “Oh, fuck,” he growled as he sank an inch deeper.
It was pure bliss, exactly what a good southern girl might imagine heaven was like. This. Right here, with this man, was about as good as it got and when his lips brushed against my cheek, my lobe, I shuddered. Goosebumps peppered my skin. “Yes, Liam.”
“I could get lost in you forever.” The words, whispered so sweetly, so sincerely, tore a rip of lightning through me that sent tears streaming from the corners of my eyes and I slammed them shut against the powerful emotions rolling through me.
Forever. It wasn’t a word I took lightly, and though I suspected otherwise, the words felt real. They felt like that could be our future. Forever. “Oh, Liam!”
One more stroke and the next orgasm nearly split my body and my heart in half as I held Liam tight while he pounded out orgasms, sweet nothings dripping from his lips as if he said them every day.
As if he said them to me every day.
Liam collapsed on top of me, sighing heavily with a smile on his face. “Oh, the baby,” he said and turned us to the side so we were face to face, bodies still fused together. “Better?” That grin wormed its way into my heart and began to make room for the man it belonged to.
“Much better,” I told him and kissed him again before he noticed just how overcome I was by him.
By this moment.
Eventually, I fell asleep in his arms, a satisfied smile on my face.LiamNothing worked better for getting your head screwed back on straight than a long trek through thick, dense trees on unstable ground. The kind of terrain that forced you to focus on nothing but one foot in front of the other. I had my backpack full of supplies and a determination to get some answers, and I didn’t plan on leaving until I had them both.
The sun shone bright and hot on Guadalupe National Park and sweat slicked down my back until the T-shirt clung to my skin, which of course brought to mind the whole damn reason I was out here instead of back in Pilgrim where I belonged. My night with Olive was burned into my memory, every fucking moment of it. She’d been bold, and that was sexy as hell. But she’d wanted me, and not just because I was there or because I was the father of the baby growing in her belly. It was because she wanted no one else but me.
It had been a heady experience. Hell, who am I kidding? It was perfect, as perfect as the little smile that curved her lips up when she’d drifted off to sleep. In my arms. If it had just been that one erotic night, my head might not be so screwed up and wouldn’t have this sick feeling in my stomach, but it was that night and the next morning.
Breakfast with Diego and Trish had been exactly what I wanted most as a kid. Olive stood at one end of the counter whipping eggs in a big bowl I only used for popcorn and potato chips, while Trish was at the other end putting together some kind of batter. My dad had produced a big bag of oranges that he squeezed for fresh juice, while singing a song I hadn’t heard since I was about six years old.
It was so damn familial, almost like a glimpse into the future I could have. If I was worthy. If I wasn’t so goddamn scared. “What a joke,” I growled at the birds singing above me. “Me, a SEAL, scared of a little woman with big green eyes and my baby in her belly.”
But I was, and I knew that because I wanted that image in my kitchen to be true so bad that I’d packed my bags and run off to clear my head. That morning in the kitchen, especially after spending the night buried in Olive’s body, felt right. So fucking right that I knew it couldn’t be real.
