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She was heat and need and fire. Scorched through. It felt as though she was about to burn alive, caught in a blaze that was as thorough as it was devastating. And she revelled in every single second of it.
It was as if this, Liam, now, was all that existed, and none of the other stuff even mattered. As if they could stay like this all day. All week.
For ever.
But they can’t, yelled a faint voice. It was muffled, indistinct, as though buried under thousands of tons of glowing magma, but it was there all the same. Prodding her with all the things she wanted to forget, especially right at this moment. Reminding her that a world existed outside this dangerously temporary, recklessly seductive little bubble.
She lifted her hands to his chest, telling herself that she needed to push him away. But somehow her arms couldn’t quite summon the stren
gth. Instead, she found herself defiantly gripping his lapels and obstinately pulling him closer. And Liam seemed only too willing to comply.
His kisses changed. Less volcanic now, taking on an almost lazy rhythm as his tongue dipped in and out of her mouth, sampling, teasing, and leaving her aching for more.
She could hear the soft little greedy sounds coming from her own throat, but she was helpless to stop herself. This was so much like before, in North Carolina...only not. He took his time, indulging and demanding. His tongue teased hers, slick and hot, before his teeth grazed her lips, making her crave more. Over and over, like they had all the time in the world.
And Talia didn’t know whether it was the separation, or that she was older, or a change of perspective, but however intense and glorious it had ever been with Liam three years ago, it felt like a pale imitation of whatever seared between them now.
It was as though time had heightened all those sensations, magnified all those emotions, instead of diminishing them, like it was supposed to have done.
His hands felt molten hot and a slick lava flow eased magnificently over every inch of her body, making her long to tear away the fabric barrier between them. Liam’s eyes held hers so darkly, fixedly. As though he could read those wanton thoughts. As though nothing else mattered. As though she was the only thing in this world for him at this moment.
He moulded her to him and once again every inch of them pressed against each other, and she shivered as she felt her softness press against the hardest part of him. When all the words and emotions were stripped out, it all came down to this, didn’t it? Man’s most primitive, licentious desire.
And the physical side of their relationship had never been a concern, had it? She’d lost count of the number of blissful times they had merged so closely—so carnally—that they hadn’t known where one of them had ended and the other begun.
It was only the emotional side of things that had been all barriers and barbs.
She didn’t know how she found the strength to lift her head and bring her eyes back to his. But when she did, the air left her lungs with a whoosh. His eyes were dark, wanton, the message in them clear and unmistakable, and calling right down to the depths of her very soul. And he was still staring at her as though she was the most precious thing in the entire world.
But you aren’t, screamed that same faint voice, and even though she wanted to pretend otherwise, Talia knew what was happening was sheer madness. Nothing had changed between them and deep down a part of her knew that. And still she couldn’t tear herself away, she couldn’t stop this inexorable pull to him. More to the point, she didn’t want to.
His tongue slid rapturously against hers as he kissed her over and over. He cupped her cheeks, angling her head for a better fit.
She was caught in the devastating flow that was rolling over them both, a slow swell of memories that melded the past and the present, making the moment all the more delicious. And even though she knew she shouldn’t—even though she knew the sanest thing would be to stop this madness and walk away—she couldn’t. She wanted more. So much more.
Before she could second-guess herself, Talia ran her hands over his chest, forcing herself to slow down and savour the moment. It was impossible to stop herself from trembling. His sculpted abs were unmistakable under the thin fabric, their feel so painfully familiar.
How many times had they danced this tango? Toppling through the door of his apartment, often not even able to make it to bedroom before his hands were on her. His mouth. His tongue. And she’d welcomed him—more than welcomed him—she’d ached for him. Coming apart over and over, before pressing him down to the bed and straddling him, while he’d let her take control.
Had she ever been foolish enough to think that the power had really been hers, though? Liam had always been the one to wield it, hadn’t he?
She had always lost her head where Liam was concerned, turning her back on everything else, even her own family. Her old life. Staying in North Carolina in the vain hope that he would begin to feel about her even a fraction of the emotions that she felt—had felt—for him.
But they weren’t in North Carolina now, were they? They were here. In St Victoria. Her home. And they’d already agreed that whatever happened over the next month meant nothing. It was about the physical, not the emotional. This magic that had always existed between them and which, no matter what else had gone so inevitably wrong in their relationship, had always been so very perfect in and of itself.
And the truth was that she’d lost something infinitely more precious than her head. She’d lost her heart. So really, she thought dizzily, was it any wonder that when he gathered her in his arms and moved them both around until her bottom was perched on the edge of his desk, she didn’t resist. Or when her wrists were encircled by one of his hands, pinning them up against his chest.
If she’d wanted to pull herself free, she could have. It was therefore telling that she did exactly as Liam silently commanded.
And then he began to trace his way down her body, taking in every dip and every curve, as if relearning them, for the first time in three years.
Talia couldn’t have said exactly what it was that rolled through her at that moment. A kind of bitter-sweet regret, perhaps, which stole the breath from her lungs. She only knew she wanted this moment to go on for ever, even as she despaired of herself for her weakness.
The way she melted as he slid his hands up and down her sides, inching their way until they were cupping her too-heavy breasts and then, after what felt like an eternity, raking his thumb pads over her achingly sensitive nipples.
Even through her scrubs, the effect was electric, evidenced by the involuntary, raw sound that was wrenched from her throat.
‘All in good time,’ Liam muttered immediately.
