Page 40 of Landing Liam

Liam’s lips part, and his hand comes up to cradle my face, his palm warm against my cheek. I lean into it without thinking, my eyes fluttering closed for the briefest second. When I open them again, he’s watching me like I’m the only thing that exists in the world.

“Say that again,” he murmurs, low and rough, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“You’re—”

But I don’t get to finish. Liam’s mouth crashes into mine, silencing the words, stealing my breath, and setting fire to every nerve in my body.

The kiss is explosive, hungry, like we’ve both been holding back. His hand slips to the back of my neck, angling my face to deepen the kiss, and I melt into him, my fingers curling into his shirt, desperate to hold on to something, anything, as the world tilts beneath me.

Liam kisses me like he means it, like he’s wanted to do this since the moment I dumped coffee all over him, and maybe he has. Maybe I have, too. All I know is that this—this—is crossing every line I swore I wouldn’t. But right now, I don’t care. I don’t care about the lines, or the rules, or the story I’m supposed to be writing.

All I care about is Liam and the way he makes me feel like… like I’m on fire.

Liam’s tongue slips into my mouth, and the sensation sends a rush of heat through my entire body. His kiss is intoxicating, every stroke deliberate, every movement pushing me closer to the edge. My hands, traitorous as they are, slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt.

I try to hold back the soft moan threatening to escape, but it slips out anyway, muffled against his mouth. His grip on me tightens, his fingers threading through my hair, and I feel myself melting, losing every shred of reason I’d promised to cling to.

It’s the alcohol, I tell myself. That’s the only explanation. If I were sober—if my head were clear—I definitely wouldn’t be kissing Liam Thompson like this, letting him unravel me piece by piece with his lips and tongue and the way his body presses so close to mine.

But even as the excuses run through my mind, I know they’re hollow. This is me giving in. This is me wanting him more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. And that scares me.

I don’t know how long the kiss lasts—seconds, minutes, an eternity—but eventually, the small voice in the back of my head breaks through the haze. The one that reminds me who I am, what I’m here for, and how dangerous this could be.

With every ounce of strength I can muster, I press my hands against his chest and pull back, breaking the kiss. My breath is ragged, my lips tingling, and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes because I know what I’ll see there.

“I…” My voice is shaky as I pull back, putting distance between us. “I need to go.”

Liam’s expression shifts, his brows furrowing, his lips parting like he’s about to argue. But he doesn’t. He stays silent, watching me with those dark, smoldering eyes that make it so damn hard to walk away.

“Goodnight, Liam,” I say.

Then, before I lose the last shred of self-control I have left, I grab my coat and walk away, my heart pounding in my chest with every step.

Chapter Seventeen

Liam

I’m still reeling, my pulse pounding and my body humming as Maggie makes a break for the doors. Every instinct screams at me to let her go, to give her the space she clearly thinks she needs. But I can’t. Not after that kiss. Not after the way she felt in my arms.

By the time I step outside, the snow is falling harder than before, blanketing the lot and swallowing any hint of the pavement beneath. Most of the cars are buried, their shapes barely visible in the swirling white. I spot her immediately, struggling against the elements, and head straight for her.

“Shoot!” I hear Maggie groan, frustration bleeding into her voice as she tugs at the door handle of her car. It’s frozen shut, and she’s digging at the snow piled against it with her bare hands.

“There’s too much snow,” I call out as I approach, but she doesn’t stop.

“I can do it,” she snaps, her words determined but trembling with the cold. “I can get my car out and back to the hotel.”

I crouch down next to her, the icy wind biting at my face as I watch her scrape at the door, her fingers already red from the cold. “Maggie,” I say softly, cutting through the howling wind. “You’re not getting anywhere like this.”

She glares at me, her breath puffing out in sharp, visible bursts. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

“Sure,” I say with a slow smirk, standing back up and crossing my arms. “Let me know how that works out for you when your hands turn into ice blocks and you’re still stuck here an hour from now.”

Her glare intensifies, but I see the hesitation flash in her eyes. She knows I’m right, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

I step closer, the warmth of my body shielding her from the brunt of the wind. “Come back inside,” I say, my tone gentler now. “The snow’s not letting up anytime soon. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.”

“I can’t just…” she starts but trails off.