CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Being separated from Bree for so long annoys me no end. But my job doesn’t always have regular hours, something I know she understands and I hope she’ll forgive.
Endless reports, interviews, more reports, reviewing medical records, accompanying a social worker to the hospital and then the residence.
Yeah, it was a long night.
Bone-weary, I finally clomp up the front steps only to find a solitary lamp lighting up the entryway.
My stomach tightens in disappointment, but I’m not surprised. It has to be close to five in the morning. I wouldn’t want Bree to wait up for me.
The door to the bedroom is wide open, inviting me in. Bree’s sprawled out on her stomach, her face half under her pillow. My lips twitch into a smile. She’d slept that exact same way as a kid. Drove my mom nuts because she worried Bree would smother herself.
I don’t want to disturb her, and I figure she should be up in a few hours. I need to decompress anyway, so I strip down to a T-shirt and shorts, flick on the television, and stretch out on the couch.
Even though my plan was to wait for Bree to wake up, sleep comes swift and solid.
The same house surrounds me. The way it looked ten years ago. Faded, peeling wallpaper, rotted carpet, smoke-stench clinging to everything.
More garbage litters the floor than I remember. Walking through the rooms, they distort and morph into the house I investigated earlier.
Somewhere in the back of the house Brianna’s crying.
No matter how many times I push garbage and debris out of my way, I can’t reach her. I call out for Brady, but my voice won’t carry over the mountains of stuff piled throughout the house.
Sounds of flesh on flesh reach my ears. Someone being hurt. Smacked. Punched. Hard.
Dread curls in my gut.
Did Chad find Brianna?
“Liam,” she calls softly, sounding so far away.
“I’m here, baby girl.” I can’t make my mouth work, and the words just stick in my throat.
“Liam.” This time her voice is sharper and cuts through the fog. Soft hands press into my shoulder. “Wake up.”
“Huh?” I turn and almost fall off the edge of the couch. The filth is gone. I’m staring at gleaming hardwood floors and Brianna’s feet.
“Why are you out here?” she demands.
“What?” I scrub my hands over my face, sit up, and try to make sense of my world.
“You were having a bad dream.” The couch dips as she sits next to me, running her hand over my back.
I blink a few times and glance around the living room, then over at Bree. “Are you okay?”
She huffs out a laugh. The sweetest fucking sound in the world after the night I just had. “I’m fine. Worried as hell about you. Bad night?”
Intense relief pulses through me. I pull her into my arms, crushing her against my chest. She wraps her arms around me, hugging just as fiercely.
“I was worried about you,” she mumbles into my shirt.
“Yes, it was a bad night,” I finally answer her question.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t want that ugliness touching you.”
Her hand stops moving over my back.
“I can’t talk about an ongoing-investigation with you anyway, sweetheart.”
“Oh.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”
I turn my gaze on her, taking in the tight workout pants that end right below her knees and the baggy shirt—one of my sheriff department T-shirts.
“Damn, you look good in that.”
One corner of her mouth quirks up. “You don’t mind?”
“Hell no.”
“I was going to go to one of Sully’s morning classes,” she explains, gesturing to the outfit.
A prick of jealousy pokes at me, but I push it back.
“That’s good.”
She turns her head away but not before I notice the way her bottom lip trembles. “I can stay…if you want me to?”
The shy way she asks says she’s afraid I’ll tell her no. “Is there another class today? I really do want you to go. But I also want to be selfish.”
“You do?”
I brush her hair out of her face so I can see her better. “Look at me.”
When she finally meets my eyes, I lean in. “I missed you so much last night.”
She runs her fingers over my cheek. “I missed you too. I tried waiting up for you, but…”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called. I got your text so late, I didn’t want to write back and wake you up.”
“You had one of the guys check on me, didn’t you?” she asks.
“Sure did. He didn’t bother you did he?”
“No. Not at all. I just noticed the same patrol car go by more than once.” She stands and holds her hands out to me. “Come on. You should lie down in the bedroom and get some more sleep. What time did you get home?”
The way she’s standing there beckoning me to the bedroom is way too sexy to resist. I take her hands and yank her into my lap. I fall back against the couch and guide her until she’s straddling me. “Five.”
She opens her mouth, but I place my hand at the back of her head and pull her in for a kiss. My other hand slides up under the back of her shirt.
“You look hot in this, but I need it off,” I say, tugging the shirt up. She lifts her arms and I slip it off and send it sailing across the room.
“Christ, you’re perfect.” My hands go to her breasts, encased in a neon-green sports bra that somehow pushes her tits up and keeps them in place. “This is sexy.” My hands fumble at the back, seeking a clasp. “How the fuck do I get it off?”
She chuckles and points to the front where there’s a small black zipper. “Oh,” I say, working it down. “I was too busy admiring these.” The bra comes off, and I fill my hands with her bare breasts.
“I did not spend enough time here,” I warn her right before sucking one hard nipple into my mouth.
“Oh, fuck.” She gasps and squirms against me.
“In a minute.” I grab her other nipple, drawing it into my mouth and lashing it with my tongue. Turns out, I can’t wait another minute. “Hold on to me.”
She mumbles out a questioning sound, but I’m too busy throwing the blankets down, then wrapping my arms around her and taking us both to the floor. We’re both franticly ripping at each other’s clothes. Her sneakers get in the way of me stripping her pants off, and I don’t have the patience to fuck around. Urging her to turn over, I squeeze her hip. “Stick your ass up in the air for me.”
Dropping down to her elbows, she does exactly as I ask. Even gives me an extra wiggle. “Show off.”
After whipping off my T-shirt, I shove my shorts down enough to free my cock.
“Ready for me.”
It’s more of a statement than a question. She answers by pushing back, silently begging me to fill her.
I don’t take it slow this time. I thrust into her fast and hard. She lets out a sharp scream that turns into a moan as I draw back. “Too much?”
“No. Keep going. Just like that.”
Like I’m going to say no.
Liam digs his fingers into my hips, pounding into me at a hard, steady pace.
Underneath us, the blanket slips on the floor, pushing me away.
He pulls me right back.
“Liam.” I gasp and dig my fingers into the blanket.
“Fuck.” He pulls out, leaving me empty and irritated.
“What are you doing?”
His hand squeezes my ass cheek in a quick, affectionate way. “Give me a second. Stay like that, though. I like the view.”
“Deviant.”
He huffs out a laugh while tugging off my shoes and pulling my pants all the way off. His body heat disappears from behind me, and I turn my head.
“Come here,” he beckons, sitting on the couch and patting his leg.
Slowly, I kneel up to face him. I must seem unsure or hesitant, because he reaches out and takes my hands.
Confronted by all his male beauty in the middle of the living room, I stop and stare.
And stare.
“You’re magnificent.”
“So are you. Now come here. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since the other night.”
Heat burns my skin and I drop my gaze.
“Hey, I meant it in a good way. In an I-wish-I-never-opened-my-mouth-and-fucked-it-up way.”
I take his hand and he pulls me closer. “Climb on up.”
“What are you, a carnival ride?” I tease to wash away any unpleasantness from the other night.
“Yeah. Best one you’re ever going to have.”
Last one too.
But I keep that thought to myself.
“Arrogant much?” I joke instead.
He grins and rubs one hand up and down his cock, while gripping my hip with the other.
“That’s it,” he whispers as I lower myself.
Both of us gasp when I ease down. All the way down. My nails dig into his shoulders and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Good.”
He moves his hips from side to side, helping me adjust. “Bree, look at me.”
His hand cups my cheek, and for the longest time, he stares into my eyes. He slides his hand into my hair and pulls me to him for a kiss. I move up and down and he groans into my mouth. “That’s good,” he mumbles against my lips.
“You like that?” I ask, doing it again.
“Fuck, yes. Keep going.”
We find a rhythm and keep moving together. His eyes never leave mine until he places one hand between my breasts. “Lean back. Hands on my knees. Want to see all of you.” The clipped directions turn me on even more, and I immediately do as he asks.
“Beautiful.” His hands are everywhere, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, running up my legs and up over my back.
My orgasm builds with breathtaking intensity and I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.
“That’s right,” he whispers. “Come for me.”
I do. Hard. It’s intense. Pleasure and relief mix together. My fingers dig into his arms, holding on for dear life. It lasts for so long, I lose track of everything else except how good we feel together.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” he murmurs over and over. I fall forward, burying my face against his neck and his arms wrap around me, holding me tight while he pounds up into me.
“Hang in there, Bree.”
My teeth sink into his shoulder and he groans, holding me even tighter. I shudder from another wave of pleasure washing over me.
He lets out a number of breathless curses, and I pick my head up. His fingers twist in my hair, pulling me closer, swallowing down my cries with a kiss. He moans into my mouth and stills. His hands clamp down on my hips, holding me tight to him while the warm rush fills me.
“Come here,” he mumbles. “Kiss me.”
We trade a few soft kisses before he lifts me off him. “I can’t straighten my legs.” A wobbly giggle bursts out of me as he massages my thighs. “Oh my God. This is what it means to be fucked so hard you can’t walk straight.” More giggles spill out of me.
Loud rumbling laughter comes from behind me, right before he stands and carries me off into the bathroom, setting me on the counter.
“I wish we could stay at my place,” he says while adjusting the shower. “You’re brother’s going to kill me.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”
“I know.”
He brushes my sweaty hair back from my face.
“Do you?”
“Can we not talk about my brother right now?”
Instead of answering, he sets two towels on the closed toilet seat. “It’s hard when I’m in his house and he doesn’t know about us.”
“You’ve never told him how you felt?”
Presumptuous much?
“I mean, back then. That you might have been interested in me…in us…dating or whatever?”
The serious expression on his face stops my babbling.
“I was way more than interested in you.” He takes my hand and leads us into the shower stall. “But, no we never talked about it. He seemed to have such a bad reaction, and you left soon after, that I didn’t see the point. I just tried to forget. Convince myself it was nothing.”
As the warm water rains down over both of us, I wrap my arms around him and lay my cheek against his chest. After a second, his arms band around me, pulling me tighter. “I really screwed up,” I mumble.
“No, you didn’t. You were young—”
I pull back and the regret in his eyes weighs me down. The last thing I want to do is keep hurting each other with the past. “We were both young. Boys mature slower than girls, you know.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
“Trust me. I’m a professional. I know what I’m talking about.”
His strong hands on my shoulders turn me to face the water and he pours shower gel into his hands, working it into a lather before carefully soaping every inch of me.
“Liam?”
“Yes?”
“Can we forget about that night? I forgive you and I hope you can forgive me.”
“God, Bree,” he breaths against my ear. “There’s nothing to forgive you for.”
“Well, pretend there is. Can we let go of that night?”
“Yes.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder, trailing his lips to my neck where he leaves one more kiss before speaking. “I’ll let go of the bad stuff that happened after. But that was the sweetest kiss I’d ever had until about twenty-four hours ago.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll never let go of that kiss.”