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“I’ve been trying to talk to you for nearly ten days now, and you won’t let me pin you down.”
The innuendo causes a firestorm in the bottom of my belly.
“There is nothing to talk about.” Jutting my chin up, I sound like an insolent child. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my dinner.”
“Stop it, Gabrielle. We both know you were trying not to eye fuck me across the room, and I sure as hell wasn’t trying to hide that I was doing so.”
His earnest, outright statements always catch me off guard. “You’re too bold, anyone ever tell you that?”
“No. Because I’m not, not with anyone but you. Not with anyone I don’t long to touch like I might shrivel up if I don’t get the chance again.”
A breath guffaws out of me because the way he talks renders me speechless.
“I have to go.”
Rough fingers skim my elbow. “Like hell you do.”
“Not here,” I snap back at him, annoyed that he always knows how to push my buttons.
I’m not an easily riled person, yet at every turn, Liam Ashton seems to prick under my skin like a stubborn thorn.
As if to demonstrate how much of a thorn, Liam follows me out of the bar and into the parking lot.
I can feel his footsteps behind me as I walk the sidewalk around the building, two options presented to me. I can chance walking to my condo, hoping he won’t follow. Or I can walk around to the parking lot, where no doubt his truck is parked, and we could …
God, this man drives me batshit crazy. He’s more than ten feet back from me, and I swear I can still smell the dirt, sandalwood, and whiskey on him. His signature scent is enticing, a little dirty, more than raw. The attraction and chemistry that pulls us together like magnets makes my stomach twist in on itself and has me wanting to do stupid, stupid things.
“What do you want from me?” I turn around, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
Without knowing it, Liam Ashton is my mirror. Never having spoken about important things, refusing to give in to this chemistry for twelve years, spurning his advances, avoiding him since I got to town.
None of it has done any good. I still stare at him and see everything I could have while being terrified at the same time.
The arrogant asshole raises an eyebrow, as if to say I should know exactly what he wants from me. It’s not the tearing at each other’s clothes forbidden sex that I picture. No, this man wants a conversation. A chance.
And I’m too scared to give it to him. Which is why I lunge across the parking lot and take his mouth with mine. Maybe having some of that earth-shattering sex will distract him from what he really wants to get out of me. More confessions.
Our tongues tangle as his teeth scrape across my bottom lip, and Liam and I let out sighs of relief like we’ve been in pain the entire time we’ve been apart. Like this right here is our natural state, and we’re comfortable drowning in it.
My hands fist his shirt as his hands skate up the column of my neck, turning my head where he wants it so he can plunge the kiss deeper. The pressure around my throat turns me on something fierce, and I realize I’ve never had a man do this.
In all honesty, even at thirty-five years old, my sex life has never come close to being incredible. I’ve had partners, men who thought they had skill or at least some who tried, but that spark was just never there. Even with boyfriends.
I’m alarmed to admit why. Saying it out loud would make the last twelve years seem like an idiotic mistake.
“Get in the car if you don’t want anyone to see us,” he instructs, his hand still around my throat.
It’s so erotic, such a test of power dynamics, that I’m nearly trembling. That’s what this man does to me. Me, a self-proclaimed independent woman who wouldn’t give in to this man for twelve years, who refused to think of him, and yet here he is, nearly bringing me to my knees.
I hop into the cab of his pickup, and my ass hits the bench seat in the back. His windows are nearly blacked out, thank God, or someone on Newton Street was about to get the show of their life. My head spins so hard with lust, it’s hard to care.
“Hurry,” I tell him, pulling at my clothes as quickly as I’m pulling at his.
We’re a rush of hands and lips in the dark, a secret I don’t want anyone to find out about while he’s trying to lead us into the light for everyone to see.
“Patience, beautiful.” He chuckles against my skin, branding me with a smile he rarely shows to anyone.
I wiggle out of my shorts as he shoves his jeans to his ankles, then position myself over the cock waving like a proud, enormous staff between us.
