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Everything about this situation—those rough, calloused hands wrapped around my shoulders, his body so close to mine, the sandpaper edge to his low voice, the smell of his skin—it’s almost too much to handle.
I’m lightheaded, drunk on him. And he hasn’t even kissed me yet.
My eyes lock on Liam’s, which are so dark, so intense, they look like black holes. A shiver dances down my spine. He’s so close, I can almost—almost—feel him.
The anticipation is killing me. I’m putty in his hands.
We stare at each other for a few seconds, the only sound is of my increasingly quick, unsteady breaths.
All of my natural instincts tell me to run. This has gone too far; it’s a slippery slope that’s not going to end well for me. Again.
But right now, I’m done thinking about the past. Done thinking about anything, if I’m being honest.
Liam’s eyes are twin coal fires, fueled by desire. “I want to hear you say it.”
And so, I murmur, “I want you to kiss me.”
His hands leave my shoulders, cradle my face. His touch is tender, light, as his fingertips spread over my cheeks, sending flames across my skin.
He makes a sound in his throat—a groan, almost—and then, his mouth is on mine. Carefully, gently, the searing heat of his lips brushes against mine and shocks my senses. His lips are softer than I anticipated. Sweeter.
All too quickly—painfully quickly—he pulls back, palms still cupping my face as his eyes search mine.
Mere inches separate us and my mouth is on fire. But his eyes never stray from mine.
He’s waiting for me,I realize. He’s backing off so I can be in control of making the next decision. My heart warms with emotion. I’ve never made such an easy decision in my life.
“Get out of the car,” I say in a strangled voice.
He obliges.
I climb out of the car and fly around to the driver’s door, meeting him there.
“Hi.”
He smiles, eyes wild. “Hi, yourself.”
I surge forward, arms wrapping around his neck as I move towards his mouth, needing to kiss him again.
As if anticipating it, his hands trail from my face, over my neck, collarbones, and then skim down the sides of my body, leaving a trail of icy cold fire in their wake.
He picks me up in one seamless movement, as if I weigh no more than a feather. My legs wrap around his waist, and one of his hands moves to support my weight while the other trails lazily up my spine and into my hair, eliciting further shivers. My entire body is ablaze before my lips even skim his, but this time, when they do, he doesn’t hold back.
Not one bit.
I’ve never been kissed so thoroughly. So hungrily. My arms tighten around his neck, pulling him against me, and our kiss goes from sweet to spicy in a matter of seconds as he gently tugs my hair and nips at my lower lip. I’m so wrapped up in everything Liam—the way he smells, feels, tastes—that I can barely tell where I end and he begins.
Every little thing that’s gone unsaid between us is right here in his kiss. This man might be the Fort Knox of emotions, everything stowed away and locked safely out of sight, but for now, I hold the key. And I see him.
He’s beautiful. Golden. A canvas displaying a priceless work of art.
And he wantsme.
* * *
When we finally pull apart, I’m giddy and lightheaded.
Lighter still, when Liam aims the full force of that incredible smile at me. “I’d better get you home,” he says, almost regretfully. “It’s a work night.”
