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The declaration was easy and confident. She jerked her head back around and glared. "That's not gonna happen even when you're well rested, buddy."
A slow smile curved his lips. "Why do you think we both ended up in Verily?"
She thought about it, then shrugged. "Coincidence."
"No such thing. Didn't they talk in rehab about life's paths having meaning and meeting certain people in your life when it was meant to be?"
Uneasy, she shifted her weight. She was tempted to close down the whole conversation, but something urged her forward. "Actually, they did. We were taught to see purpose for our choices and to believe we are at this exact moment because it's in the bigger plan. How did you know?"
"I studied a lot about drug use in the academy. I felt if I knew as much about the people using, and their struggles to get clean, it would help me be a better cop. I've gone to Narcotics Anonymous meetings."
Of course he had. Because that was the type of man he was. Emotion washed over her. He was so . . . good. Every action was done with the purpose of being better, digging deeper, giving more. "I'm not surprised," she said quietly. "You, Liam Devine, are an extraordinary man."
Shock filled his beautiful blue eyes. "I wish you could see as clearly as I do, Isabella. You're just as extraordinary. And I believe we met again in Verily because our story wasn't over yet. I believe it's just beginning."
The breath left her body. How could she fight this man? His words and his actions and his physical presence pulled her down like an undertow, trying to overwhelm her. And as she fought to swim, struggling to pry herself away from this extreme connection, Izzy began to wonder why she was trying to fight so hard in the first place.
Silence fell over the room.
Suddenly, she realized silence wasn't a good thing when there were two puppies in the same room. She jerked upward. "Oh no, Liam; it's quiet. Where are they?"
He flew off the couch, frantically looking around, then stopped. A grin curved his lips. "You gotta see this."
She rose and looked over. The puppies were inside Han's crate, heads together, paws entwined, snuggled within the blanket. Low snores came from the cage. "They're exhausted," she said with amusement. "I think that's one of the cutest things I've ever seen."
"Agreed. Now let's see if we can finally get some sleep." He quietly closed the crate door and latched it, then turned. "Take my bed; I'll take the couch."
"No, I'm fine with the couch. A few hours are all I need."
"Absolutely not."
"Umm, to be honest, I don't drop into sleep easily, even when I'm tired. I need to relax with TV first."
"I have the perfect thing for both of us." He headed to the television, slid in a DVD, and started it. He walked to the closet and returned moments later with a large blanket and a small pillow. "Mind if I watch a bit with you?"
"Of course not."
He settled on the other side of the couch, propping his feet up on the leather ottoman. The blanket was big enough for two, so she rested her pillow on the arm of the sofa and stretched out under the warm, fuzzy material. As the credits for The Empire Strikes Back scrolled across the screen, a yawn split her lips.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered.
"What?"
"Quiet. Not a sound. I want to weep with joy."
She smiled, tucked the blanket under her chin, and began laughing.
"What's so funny?" he asked curiously.
"Your blanket. It's chartreuse."
He gave her a fierce frown. "That session was confidential. And I got that as a gift."
"Sure." He grabbed her feet and tickled her through the blanket, forcing small giggles to erupt. "Okay, I'm sorry!"
"Forgiven. This time." But he was grinning back at her, and Izzy wanted to touch his face, cup his jaw, trace the lush curve of his lips, press her forehead to his. A shudder of want swept through her, so she turned back to the movie and tried to remind herself it was all for the best.
Soon, she fell asleep.
chapter nine
IZZY SURFACED OUT OF A DEEP SLEEP, fuzzy tendrils of drowsiness still clinging to keep her from being fully awake. Still dark. Rustling behind her. A low, husky voice whispering. She blinked, trying to remember, and then her surroundings clicked into her awareness.
"Liam?" she whispered, shifting on the couch.
"Shhh, go back to sleep." A latch locked into place. Movement came from her right, and then he was kneeling at her side. "It's only five a.m. I took the puppies out and they settled right back in."
"You walked them both?"
"Of course. You need your sleep." He reached out and stroked back the tangled hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Do you want me to carry you into my bed? I can sleep out here."
"No." Her hand lifted of its own accord to cup his cheek. She caressed his rough stubble, then traced the line of his jaw, over his lips. So soft. He pressed a kiss to her fingers.
"Sweetheart, you're half-asleep. Rest."
God, he felt so good. His breath held the scent of mint. Had he brushed his teeth this morning? Even in the shadows, his pale eyes glowed like the embers of a fire ready to flare up. No man had ever gazed at her with such intensity, such devotion. Why was she fighting so hard again? To give him away to another woman? Oh, but how her heart ached to have him to herself for just a little while, without worrying about the future. Without worrying she'd never be enough for him. Her other hand reached out to stroke his thick hair, like rough silk. A slight groan rumbled from his chest, now covered in a soft T-shirt. "You feel so good," she whispered. "I'm so tired of fighting this."
He stiffened. "I don't want you to fight it, Isabella. I just want to hold you. Bring you pleasure. But not when you don't know what you're doing."
Maybe it was the dark, and the loneliness that cut through her at the thought of him walking away. Maybe it was the culmination of every moment spent with him, or the slowly mounting hunger growing inside of her to be part of him again. Izzy had no idea--she only knew she wanted him so badly, her entire being shook with pure need.
She tilted her head up. Moved closer. Slowly, afraid to break the spell, she pressed her forehead to his, her hands stroking his rough cheeks, tracing the plump line of his lower lip. He shuddered against her.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she murmured as her lips met his.
She kissed him, long and slow. He let her lead as she savored the taste of him, the heat of his mouth, the flavor of his tongue, the soft firmness of his lips. With a growl, he slanted his mouth to take the kiss deeper, pressing her back against the cushions, and climbed on top of her.
Every hard muscle cradled her curves. They feasted on each other as his hands explored her body, cupping her breasts, his lips breaking free from her mouth to nibble and suck on the length of her neck. Her hands gripped his shoulders, looking for an anchor, and his teeth bit delicately against her tattoo, causing her to cry out. He soothed with his tongue, murmuring her name, and then a fierce storm of need crashed through her, and Izzy became crazed to touch and taste every part of his body.
Ripping the blanket aside, he tugged off her clothes in seconds, whisking her out of her tiny panties until she lay naked underneath him. Tearing off his shirt, he threw it on the floor with the pile of clothes. Already damp and throbbing with arousal, she arched against him, his erection notched perfectly between her thighs. He rocked slowly, dragging against her clit, the soft cotton the only barrier between them. She panted and dug her fingernails into his hard shoulders, urging him to go faster.
But he ignored her, keeping the pace slow and steady as his head dipped to brush his lips against the hard tip of a nipple. With teasing strokes, he plucked and licked until her breasts were so sensitive, one flick to her clit would make her shatter.
As if he knew, he laughed low in his throat and continued his torture, sucking on her nipple while his fingers played her body like a maestro. Stroking the swell of her body, the curve of her hip, he shifted his weight
, pinning her wide open while his fingers dipped into the crease between her legs, gathering the wetness and pressing against her dripping entrance, refusing to go any further.
She exploded into a rage of need. Sinking her teeth into his meaty bicep, she worked her arms free and shoved down his shorts, wrapping her hands around the hot, hard shaft to rub and stroke, sliding over the wet tip where his own arousal leaked.
He cursed and bit her nipple in punishment. Jerked against her hands even as he slid his fingers deep into her pussy, giving her only a taste of what she craved. "Witch. I waited too long for this, dammit. I refuse to come in your hands like a horny teen."
"I like you as a horny teen," she teased, gasping when he increased the pace of his fingers, brushing the edge of her needy clit. "It hurts, Liam. I need you so much it hurts."
"Fuck. You're so hot and wet. What do you do to me?"
"What you do to me."
"I need to see you come. I need to know this is all for me. Don't close your eyes."
His sexy demand wrested shudders from her body, and she twisted to get closer but he pinned her down with an easy strength, sliding downward, parting her swollen lips and dipping his head between her thighs.
"Liam!"
His lips and tongue worked magic on her dripping core. His fingers curled and pumped into her with the perfect amount of pressure, bringing her right to the edge of climax, then keeping her there, hanging an inch from the abyss. Her heels dug into the couch cushions. He flicked his tongue against her nub, then gave a long, slow lick down her slit, lengthening the tension until a knot formed in her belly and every muscle clenched against the rising orgasm threatening to crash over her.
"Oh, please," she wrung out, twisting her hips with desperation.
"Eyes on me, Isabella."
