A soft laugh escapes her as she breaks free long enough to peek beneath the cotton.
“Yeah,” I breathe, shadowing over her, watching as the corners of her bruised lips turn up.
She peers up to find my eyes locked on hers, undoubtedly glossy with heat and something close to greed. “Wow,” I echo, dipping back down.
Our lips crash together once more—our bodies another tangle of limbs. I palm her head with one hand, dragging the other down her back. Tess slides her fingers to my shoulders and grips the muscle, pulling me closer.
A guttural noise escapes my throat as she presses her chest to mine, and my hands fly between us, palming her from outside of her t-shirt.
"Your bedroom or mine?" I ask, my voice borderline desperate.
She freezes, her eyes wide, lips swollen, hair tousled from my hold on it.
Wrecked.Beautiful.
Instead of waiting for her to decide, I lift her off the counter and carry her toward the stairs.
She doesn't argue or question me. Instead, she relaxes against me, and the weight of that is everything. Like being chosen—and choosing back—for the first time in too long.
"Mine's closer," I whisper halfway up the stairs.
She nods, our lips still brushing. "That's what I was gonna say."
31
Tessa
Idon’t remember a time I’ve been touched like this—kissed like this. Liam Montgomery may say it’s been a long time for him, but I suddenly feel the same. Because if this is the comparison… I’ve gone my whole life without.
Liam backs me toward his bed, solid heat pressed between us, and I can't help angling my hips just enough to feel him exactly where I need him most. “Jesus, Tessa," he exhales. His chest heaves, and although he just carried me up a flight of stairs, the parts of his body I've seen tells me endurance has nothing to do with it.
A whimper flies from my throat before I can stop it, just as the back of my knees hit the mattress. I fall back, sinking into it, and look up at Liam hovering over me like the powerful force that he is.
"What do you want?" I ask, the sight of him, his honesty and vulnerability—this entire morning—making me eager to please him. To have him.
His jaw ticks as he rakes his hand down the back of his neck. He doesn't answer right away. Instead, his face contorts as if he's… uneasy?
The idea confuses me. We both have had our hesitations with this, but he's been the one smothering my doubts lately. Stifling my excuses.
"What's wrong?" I ask, nerves coiled in my stomach.
He rubs his first two fingers along his brow, drinking me in like he's memorizing me. "It's been a long time, Tess. Like… really long." He blows out a sharp breath, clenches his teeth, and grinds out the rest. "And I know how little it took for me just thinking about you—just hearing you through this goddamn wall."
All of my blood rushes south—heat pulsing between my legs, low and unrelenting. "That's… okay," I manage.
"It's not." He gnaws at his bottom lip, his eyes pinned on me.
I see how much he's in his head, how his body leans forward despite his mind pulling back. He’s thoughtful—measuring every decision. Cautious. Careful. Reflective. Heat radiates off him, every inch so aware, so dialed in, and it challenges me to want to take that away.
I slip my finger into the elastic at his hips and pull him toward me. He resists briefly before staggering closer. "We can stop if you want," I offer, my voice a breathy contradiction.
Liam falls forward, and I lean back onto my hands to counter his movement. He braces his weight on either side of me. "I don't want to stop," he admits, threading his fingers into my hair. He tugs it gently, dragging his tongue across my lips. But when I arch into him, he groans as if it hurts and stands back up.
For a flash of a second, I think of Trevor—of that stupid, hollow feeling in my ribs when I saw him in the same position. But that sick ache wasn't from seeing him with someone else so quickly. It was from being dismissed so easily… again. He never saw me—never even tried. He wasn't thoughtful or careful with his words or actions.
But Liam is. And one look at him now reinforces everything I told him last night in the truck—the two are no comparison.
I reach for his shorts again, and he freezes. "Tessa, what—"
