“As if I could.” He was kissing her temple, her jaw, his breath rough and hot against her skin. “I can feel how close you are and I need you to give it to me, Dani.”
Yes. “Faster.”
His thumb pressed her clit as his finger fucked her fast and hard. She was shaking at the claiming, struggling to bring him with her. She could feel something building inside her. Bigger than before. More intense. The hand in her hair tightened almost painfully and she felt it in her sex. Who was this stranger? How did he know what she needed before she did?
“Liam,” she gasped, rocking her hips into his hand, trying to get more of him inside her.
“That’s it,” he said urgently. “That’s my girl. So wet for me. Let me feel it. Come for me and show me who you’ll be dreaming about tonight.”
With that command her climax broke over her and he moaned her name as his control disappeared. “Dani.”
His shaft swelled in her grip as he buried his face in her neck, heard his guttural plea before he came in her hand. The heat of his release coating her fingers as they slipped through it. She shouted his name, his orgasm intensifying her own.
His body quaked, trembling along with hers and it amazed her to think that she’d been responsible for his reaction. His pleasure.
His hands slid from her hair and out of her pants and started to caress her arms. Her legs. He was soothing her, kissing her forehead as he panted above her. Taking care of her as they both recovered, and she leaned into it because it felt natural. Right.
She’d never been more aware of her body. Every inch of it tingled with aftershocks and residual excitement. She felt like an explorer discovering uncharted terrain. What else could she feel with the right partner? How soon would he be able to do it again?
She was just about to ask him when his palms slid up her sides, then paused. She felt a blunt fingertip tracing her scar and everything inside her froze. “What’s this?” he murmured, still sounding a little dazed.
Dread ripped her out of her lust-induced haze. She’d forgotten all about it this morning and again tonight. Stripped in front of him and forgotten what he might be able to see. Touch. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Liam inhaled sharply, and she knew he was remembering too. The scar on her side shaped like an S. He was the only one who knew what it stood for. “Dani, I—"
She pushed at his hands, nearly twisting her ankle as she jumped off the counter and reached, stumbling, for her T-shirt. “Wow. I’m so drunk.”
The word you’re looking for is obvious. You’re so obvious.
Liam was moving toward her and trying to zip up his pants at the same time. “Dani, wait.”
She didn’t want to see the pity. The small mark seemed huge now that he’d touched it. Seen it. With anyone else she could lie about how she got it, but Liam knew. At this moment that fact seemed insurmountable.
He would always know.
He swore again when she avoided his grasp. “Damn it, stop acting like I’ve ever given you a reason to run away from me. It’s insulting to us both. At least let me help you before you fall down.”
“No,” she said sharply, causing him to freeze in place. She started her slow methodical climb up the stairs. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But I do want to be alone for this next part of the drinking experience. You’ve seen me throw up before. You don’t need a refresher course.”
“Please don’t leave like this.”
She forced herself not to cry. “I’m only going to bed, Liam. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When she finally left the bathroom, feeling empty and aching, and unfortunately more clearheaded, she saw that Liam had turned down her sheets, leaving a glass of water and some aspirin on her nightstand.
Why did he always do the right thing? It threw her off and it always had. Men didn’t behave like that. If they didn’t get what they wanted, they left. Or worse, stayed and refused to accept rejection. Forced themselves on you. Hurt you.
But not Liam. Even though she’d gotten drunk, thrown herself at him and then freaked out, he still did what he’d always done. Made sure she was okay.
How could anyone in their right mind resist that?
Dani took the aspirin, drank the water and slid gratefully into her bed. Part of her would have rather seen Liam waiting in her bedroom, demanding to talk it out, even though she was grateful he’d respected her enough to give her space.
He really was too good for her. He would be better off with strawberry tarts. At least Gillian was consistent and not as obviously broken.