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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ashlyn
Liam watched me, silver eyes sharp as we cruised toward his apartment. He still hadn’t released my hand, and it rested between us in the back seat.
Every line in his body was taut. Even the muscle of his jaw jumped as we sat in the silence. Not that I was completely immune. My own temper simmered just below the surface. I couldn’t wait to get this man alone.
Deep in my belly, heat twisted and turned. I rolled my eyes, trying to get a grip on the fact that while I was still furious at his actions, there was so much to appreciate about how Liam looked when he was fired up. His eyes were practically sparking as they watched me, his mouth puckered and darkened. I could only imagine the muscles in his body flexed, tense, waiting.
It was the longest ten-minute drive of my life.
And when Liam opened the door, reaching in to pull me from the car, I knew immediately that whatever tension between us, it was about to break…and break hard.
Liam’s driver gave a casual wave as he pulled away, leaving us standing outside the entry to Liam’s building. The air was thick tonight, and I shivered at the change in temperature from the car to the humid fall air.
Or perhaps it was the flickering heat that came off the man beside me, his body suddenly close, looming over me.
I blinked, fluttering my eyes as I stared up at him. His face was tortured, and my heart leapt in response. I wanted to smooth his frown lines, the dark worry and residual fear that had sparked his temper so thoroughly.
But I didn’t. Not yet. After his reaction to my questions last night, I wasn’t sure where I stood.
Together we entered the foyer, the soft glow of the chandeliers above casting strange shadows against the marble.
Liam reached for me, tucking my body against his. “Are you mad at me?”
Great question, sir.I bit down hard on my lip. Slowly, his hands slid into my hair, his thumbs stroking my neck as he tilted my head up to him. I avoided his eyes, my hands falling to his waist, feeling the tug and movement under the button-down he still wore. I knew the moment I met those eyes, I would be lost again.
I wanted to be mad. I did.
But the truth was , I was just ecstatic that he was talking to me at all. After yesterday, I figured he’d push me away again. His actions weren’t forgiven, but I still moved into his embrace gladly.
“Ashlyn.” His voice was soft, almost pleading. “Talk to me. I’m so sorry.”
I jerked my gaze to his. “I want to be mad at you, Liam. You just marched all over my night with your bullshit anger issues. Carter is a friend. A friend!”
His head swung, loose and disjointed. “I know. I don’t even know why I went there. I just couldn’t sit at home. And then, when I saw you with him…” He swallowed hard.
Liam’s body was vibrating with something. I tightened my hands against him.
“I’ve not been completely honest about my past. It’s hard to talk about, and I didn’t want you to think…” He trailed off.
“That you were an overly possessive jealous boyfriend type? I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that,” I responded.
Liam’s eyes shuttered. “I’m not usually like this. I just cannot stand the idea of another man’s hands on you.”
Slowly his eyes opened again. Molten silver, burning their way over my face. His thumbs began stroking again.
Wow. That was a bolt straight between my legs. I shifted, licking my lips. He caught the movement.
“You deserve some space. I’ll get you a ride home.” Liam stepped back, making my hands fall limply to my side. He pulled out his phone, clumsily swiping through his apps.
I wanted to stay.
I wanted to go upstairs, curl up in his bed with him, and let him tell me everything.
I wanted to be mad.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t dying to feel him against me again.
