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I set the empty plate down and curled my feet up under me as I leaned back on the soft leather.
Liam’s eyes moved from the television to my legs before looking at me. “You’re full?”
I nodded. “Yes, but I’m a fan of leftover pizza.”
His eyes dropped back to my bare legs. “Are you cold? Need a blanket?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He seemed appeased, then took another slice from the meat lovers box. I scanned the room. There were very few personal things or decorations. There was a wall with several frames that hung in a fashion that I doubted Liam had done himself. Not that a man couldn’t decorate, but this was Liam.
I studied the photographs, realizing most were of one little boy, who I assumed was Cree. There were two with the boy and a baby. My eyes stopped on one that was an older photo. Faded with time. Two teenage boys leaning against the front of Liam’s car. One was grinning with a cigarette clenched between his teeth. Then, there was Liam. Even without the beard, I could tell it was him. His arms were crossed over his chest, but a beer bottle hung from one of his hands. They were both shirtless and wearing jeans. He was tattooed, even back then. Not as many as he had now, but they were there.
“How old were you in that photo?” I asked.
He turned to look in the direction I was studying. “Seventeen,” he replied.
“Who is the other guy?” I asked, wondering if it was one of the men at the clubhouse I’d gotten to know.
“Tulsa. He was my best friend. We grew up together,” he said, turning his attention back to the television. “You met his son, Micah.”
I remembered Country telling me about Tulsa, but I didn’t dare mention it. I also knew his best friend was dead.
“He was shot sixteen years ago next week,” he added, his tone taking on a darker note. As if the thought of it still caused an ache. I knew it did. Although time had helped the pain of losing those I loved, it was never something that went away completely.
I slid my hand over and covered his. He tensed, and I almost drew my hand away, but he turned to look at me. It wasn’t sadness that I saw. I shivered slightly as his gaze dropped to my mouth, then my breasts.
“You walk around here in tops like that and no bra, Liberty, you’re gonna get fucked.” There was a warning in his voice.
“I think I mentioned that lately, I want, uh, it, all the time,” I replied, licking my lips.
He inhaled sharply through his nose, then turned his hand over, threading his fingers through mine before standing up and taking me with him. “Damn dog seems to be too interested in your scent. Gonna need to take this to the bedroom and shut him out,” he said, pulling me to his body.
He let go of my hand and ran both of his over my stomach. “Fuck, I like that,” he murmured. He gripped my waist and turned me around, facing away from him, then gently pushed me forward. “Right through there,” he said, leading me to the door on the wall opposite the television.
“Stay,” Liam told Ozzy firmly when he stood to walk beside me.
When I stopped at the closed door, he reached around me and opened it with one hand while gripping my hip with the other. Not letting go of me, he walked us inside, his body pressed against my back.
The scent hit me, reminding me of how his suite at the clubhouse had smelled. It was pure Liam. I inhaled as my eyes scanned the room, but my shirt was being pulled over my head before I saw more than the large wood-framed bed.
Liam palmed my breasts, and his hot breath against my neck caused me to shiver. He kissed and licked as he worked his way down to my shoulder, then back up to just below my ear. His hands fondled my boobs, rolling each nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“You always smell so damn good,” he murmured.
My head fell back against his chest, and I closed my eyes as pleasure pooled between my legs. He slid his hands down to my stomach and held it for a moment while he nibbled on my earlobe, then moved one hand under the front of my boxer shorts that no longer hung as loosely on my hips as they once had.
I sucked in a breath and opened my eyes to watch his tanned hand move under my panties before he eased a finger between my wet, swollen lips.
“Jesus, baby,” his deep voice said, his mouth so close to my ear that I broke out in goose bumps. “Get these off,” he growled, then stepped back, taking my boxers and panties down with one hard tug until they were at my ankles.
I stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.
His hands cupped my butt. “I want you on my face,” he told me, then shoved me toward the bed.
I glanced back at him as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, then began working on his jeans. The hunger in his gaze as he lifted his chin, nodding toward the bed, sent another wave of excitement through me.
“Climb on and let me watch your ass,” he ordered. “Then, you’re gonna ride my mouth.”
