by Niles, Abby
“I guess. It still makes no fucking sense to me.”
“You won’t have to worry about it for sixteen more years.”
“Thank the High Council for that. The Drall really seems to be a huge pain in the ass.”
Liam chuckled again. “You won’t say that when you meet her.”
“No, I’ll just be consumed by a woman.” He shuddered. “The idea gives me hives. I like to spread the love around. Don’t see why I have to be shackled to one woman when there are so many beautiful ones to sample from.” Brit went back to the Jeep and lifted the toolbox from the back. “I hate to drop and run, but I need to get some sleep. What are we doing with this?”
Liam grabbed the duffle bag. “The garage.”
After he stepped through the open bay of the attached two-car garage, he froze. All of his stuff was still in there. Pushed up against the wall, but still, it was there. He walked around Ava’s red sedan and pulled out the workbench he’d used while he was here. Another toolbox was behind it. And a pile of wood from a project he’d worked on last summer.
She hadn’t thrown any of it away. Had she even remembered it was in here?
He doubted it. If she had, she would’ve found some excuse to keep him from coming back here, and gotten rid of everything.
Brit walked in behind him, then whistled. “Now, that’s telling, isn’t it?” He slapped Liam on the shoulder. “I’m pulling for you, man.” He looked back at the pile in the corner. “For both of you.”
…
Ava pressed closer to the door that led from inside the house to the garage. Liam had been filling the house with memories for the last couple of hours, and she was close to breaking.
At first, the change in the air had been subtle. She’d been sitting at the kitchen table deciding on today’s cafe lunch menu with Becky over the phone. They had just decided to offer Ava’s special chicken salad croissant as the sandwich of the day, when the first whiff of sanded wood teased her nose. She’d stiffened, but then closed her eyes and inhaled, as images so bittersweet they made her chest ache passed through her mind. Liam bent over the wood. The sander gripped in his hands. The muscles of his back and arms flexing with each pass of the machine...
The longer he sanded, the more the scent poured in from under the door and filled her living space, filled her heart. She’d tried to escape the memories by forcing her concentration onto Becky’s recommendation for the drink special—a caramel latte—when a new smell encircled her.
Scorched wood.
And just like that, she was caught in the past again, remembering Liam’s large hands wrapped around the small wood burning instrument, the look of concentration that would come over his face as he delicately burned a design into the grain, and the way his lips puckered as he blew away the blackened pieces of etched-out timber. The smell—along with memories—was unbearable. And just when she didn’t think she couldn’t handle another second of it, couldn’t respond to Becky with anything more than murmured “Hmm,” he switched it again.
Varnish.
And a whole new set of images assaulted her. All of Liam. All of the loving way he manipulated the wood. All making her wish she had the right to sit in the corner as she’d done on many occasions, watching him work, just waiting for the moment he’d look up and wink at her with a crooked smile before returning to his task.
She missed that intimacy. She missed him. Terribly.
She’d lied to him earlier. When she’d looked out her window and found him gone, she’d been terrified. She had immediately called Detective Calhoun, only to be told by the woman that she hadn’t heard from him, either. All Ava could think about was him back in the hands of the man who’d taken them. Images of Liam drugged and strapped down, powerless to stop the maniac from inflicting the pain he had planned—the thoughts had consumed her, and she’d felt the same desperation to save Liam as she did for her sister.
But to save one, meant the other would pay.
She wanted to keep everyone safe. Wanted them all to come out on the other side of this unscathed, but she couldn’t decide how best to escape the evil threatening them when Liam was refusing her information about himself. The key must be something about him, something the other shifter was obsessed with.
She’d tried to get Detective Calhoun to answer a few questions, but if they didn’t revolve around the case, the woman hadn’t been interested in answering.
Any information was going to have to come from Liam himself.
What did she need to do to get him to open up?
That was only one of her current problems, though. Liam was safe for the moment. But Emma wasn’t. With him holed up inside her garage, not visible to the madman, the man might think she’d chosen Liam over her sister’s safety. She had to get him back out on the front porch.
She silently opened the door.
Liam was bent over using a paint brush to smooth lacquer onto a wooden chest. The muscles of his back flexed under the tight, white, thermal shirt he’d put on. His biceps bulged under the fabric with each swipe of his arm. He’d also changed into a pair of jeans that stretched tight across his ass.
Hot lava flowed through her veins, and she swallowed, wanting to go up behind him and run her hands up his back like she used to do.
“Enjoying the view, Ava? I can take my shirt off, if you want,” he said, voice rumbling with sweet promise, as he continued applying the lacquer without glancing up.
Damn his ass. “Actually, I was going to suggest that you leave.”
He straightened and turned to face her, an inquisitive, almost relaxed expression on his face, which made no sense considering what she’d just said. “Were you, now? And where would you suggest I go?”
“Home.”
“I am home, Ava.”
At his declaration, her heart skipped a beat, and it took everything in her to force the next sentence past her tight throat. “This isn’t your home, Liam. Not anymore.”
“I beg to differ.” He shrugged, again, relaxed as if her denial had no affect on him. “Either way, I’m not going anywhere.”
She gingerly moved the crutches forward so she could step farther into the room, and noticed the project behind him. Red cedar wood had been crafted into a breathtaking hope chest with raised panel sides. The clear lacquer made the contrast between the beige and red grain pop.
A tinge of envy went through her for whoever this was meant for. She’d always wanted a hope chest.
“It’s beautiful, Liam.” She couldn’t stop the words, even if she’d wanted to.
“You think so? I’m almost done. Just need to finish the gloss and attach the latch.”
“Your customer is going to be thrilled.”
Sawdust clung to his shirt, and the tiny particles dusted his hair. How many times had she brushed away the little pieces of wood?
How she wanted to right now... But she turned away, walking around the chest.
“Who’s it for?” she asked.
He shrugged again. “Some guy wanted it for his fiancée.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
His tone had become tense and she realized what they were talking about—a couple who were planning a future together. She quickly changed the subject. “How’s business?”
His gaze followed every one of her movements, studying her, dissecting her. Could he feel her heart racing, feel how his scent was driving her absolutely crazy? How she wanted to throw herself into his arms right now?
“Why’d you come in here, Ava?”
The change in subject startled her. “I told you. I want you to leave.”
“And I’ve already told you I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes slowly heated. “So if you’re going to run back inside and hide, you’d better do it now…while you still can.”
At the verbal challenge, she stiffened. No matter how mean or nasty she got, she wasn’t fooling him. That knowledge should’ve made her do exactly what he sugges
ted and run back in the house to hide, but she stood immobile as he held her gaze and stepped toward her, pulling his shirt over his head as he closed the distance. Her breath caught tight in her lungs as her traitorous eyes betrayed her and took in the perfect muscles of his chest. The bruises were gone, which was so unfair, since some of hers had started to turn a hideous shade of green.
“This is why you really came out here, isn’t it? You heard me working. You imagined it, didn’t you? Me out here in the summer, shirtless.”
She swallowed, knowing she should call him a liar, but unable to deny his words.
“Do you remember how I’d pretend I didn’t know you were in the room until your hands ran up my back?”
“I didn’t know you were pretending.”
“But I was. Every. Time.” He took her hands and, God help her, she couldn’t yank them away. “Touch me now, Ava.”
As he pressed her palms to his chest, heat seeped through her body. Enticing. Hypnotic. She stared at his large hands holding hers prisoner against his flesh, but she didn’t want to escape, she wanted to surrender. She gulped. How many times had she run her hands over the hard muscles, listened to the sound of pleasure he’d make simply from her touching him?
Unable to resist, she eased her hands out from under his and slid them over his shoulders. The crutches released from under her arms and clattered to the ground. He closed his eyes, and there it was. That sound. Almost like a deep, rattling hum. The sound vibrated against her hands. Was it the lion?
She’d never heard a noise like that before, only with Liam, and it always had the same effect. She felt loved.
Before she had time to think, his arm slid around her and tugged her to him as his lips latched on to hers. Any remaining sense of self-preservation left her as everything she’d held back exploded. She clung to him, crawled up his body, couldn’t get close enough. He answered her frustration by lifting her off her feet. The movement so familiar, she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist.
As he perched her on the hood of her car, their tongues continued to war. Hands fumbled. Frustration mounted. Teeth clashed. They weren’t close enough. It wasn’t fast enough.
Liam grabbed two handfuls of her T-shirt and yanked, ripping it down the middle. Cool air hit her skin, but was immediately warmed when his hand engulfed her breast. Tearing her mouth from his, she arched back, gasping. “Liam.”
He nuzzled her neck with his lips, gently kissing the bruised skin as he lowered her backward, his weight pinning her to the cold metal of the hood. She didn’t care. All she cared about was the very masculine body that was Liam holding her down, his rigid cock grinding between her legs.
God, she missed the electric sexual fire that had always sparked between them, even from a single look.
He lifted his head, breathing hard, his irises glowing with their gorgeous caramel essence. “What do you want, baby?”
“I want—”
The phone rang from inside the house.
Horror washed away every delicious morsel of lust that flowed through her body. What was she doing? She pushed at him until he stepped back, then scrambled off the hood, hopping on one foot to get her balance.
Pulling together the pieces of her torn shirt, she said, “I want you—” she closed her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath “—to leave me alone.”
Then she limped back into the house as fast as her ankle would allow her…to hide, just as he said she should.
She stopped in front of the phone as it rang again. Fear made her hesitate. Had he somehow seen her? Knowing she had no choice, she slowly lifted the receiver. “Hello.”
“Hey, honey. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Mom.” She collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor. She hadn’t blown it as she’d feared. But she could have.
So very easily.
And that was scariest thought of all.
Chapter 9
Liam slung his hand out and sent a puff of sawdust scattering through the air. “Fuck!”
He’d had her! And then that damn phone rang and shattered the moment he’d created. His beast seethed inside, amplifying his anger, pushing him to go after her.
He agreed, refusing to lose the ground he’d just gained.
The door slammed against the wall as he barged in. Ava jumped from where she sat on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest, with the phone pressed to her ear. He snatched the phone out of her hand and hung it up.
“That was my mom, Liam! What the hell?”
“I want answers, Ava, and I want them now.”
She staggered to her feet, clutching her shirt closed around her. “I think I’ve demanded the same thing repeatedly, and have been denied.”
“What is this? Some kind of tit-for-tat? I won’t give you answers so you’re going to hold out on me in return?”
“So you’re telling me there are answers?”
Liam shoved his hands through his hair. Would she ever drop it?
Seeing he wasn’t going to get the answer he wanted from her mouth, he decided to make her body answer him instead. He grabbed her around the waist and tugged her to him. Her hand released her torn T-shirt to brace against his chest. The warmth of her palm seared his skin. The scent of her arousal hit his nose and he inhaled deep. “I’ve missed that smell, Ava. The one created whenever I touch you. You can hide behind your words all you want, but you can’t hide that from me.”
When he pushed her up against the wall, her eyes widened and she swallowed. Feverish skin pressed against his, making him groan.
“I want to fuck you, Ava,” he said, remembering how turned on she got when he talked dirty. The telltale shifting of her body and stifled groan let him know that hadn’t changed. He pounced on the advantage. “Do you remember how I like to use your apron to tie you down? To the bed? The chair? How I tease every inch of your body until you beg? How I caress that sweet spot between your legs until you come against my mouth?”
“Liam!” An agonized moan filled the air as she pushed weakly at his chest. “Emma.”
“Save your lame excuses. I see through them. She’s at school. Won’t be back for hours. Which gives us plenty of time to play.”
He slid one hand over her stomach and down the front of her jeans to cup her. The heat of her body warmed his palm as he rubbed against her. She jerked, her breath coming out in short spurts.
“Spread them,” he demanded.
She looked up into his eyes through heavy lids, her lips parted, beckoning him, and he wanted so badly to take them, but he wanted to see every reaction, make sure his assumptions were right.
When she spread her legs, a flash of anger darkened her amber eyes, and he fought a smirk of satisfaction. She could be as furious as she wanted at him for making her admit this, but he’d just gotten the answer he needed.
Ava wanted him, and was powerless to refuse him.
A possessive growl vibrated in his chest, pushing him to continue, to make her defenseless against him so she could never again look him in the eyes and claim not to want him.
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he popped open the button of her jeans and lowered the zipper. Slowly, deliberately, he slipped his hand underneath the waistband of her panties and almost closed his eyes in ecstasy at the wetness that greeted him. As much as he’d loved playing with the marks on the inside of her thighs, nothing compared to the feeling of her arousal coating his fingers.
He circled her clit, loving the way her body shivered in delight. He slid one finger inside her and he lost eye contact as hers closed, a moan coming from her parted lips.
His cock hardened, throbbed, demanded to take her. And he could. Easily. But as he moved his hand back and forth, he settled for watching her instead. Watched the pleasure that washed away the harsh lines of anger, the way her breath caught with each swipe of his hand, the way her body started to shake from the tension of impending release.
When she moved her pelvis helplessly again
st his hand, whimpers spilling from that lush mouth, he leaned forward, and against her ear, whispered, “Imagine it’s my cock.” He pushed two fingers inside her, then slowly withdrew. “I’m standing at the edge of the bed, you’re laid out before me, legs spread, arms tied above your head. I’m gripping your hips, pounding into you.” He mimicked the motion with his hand, pressing his palm against her as his fingers thrust deep inside. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it Ava?”
“Oh God!” Her head dropped back against the wall. “Yes! Liam! Yes!”
The eager response made his dick pulse and strain against the zipper of his jeans, but he continued, ignoring his own needs. “Do you want it harder, Ava? Do want to hear the headboard slamming against the wall as I take you, over and over again?”
She bucked up against him, a long moan ripping from her mouth. Oh, she was imagining it all right. She was completely in the throes of the picture he’d painted of them fucking. He captured her wrists in his free hand and pinned them to the wall above her head. “You want to touch me. But you can’t. Try, Ava.”
She tugged, another whimper coming from her when she met the resistance of his grip. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her so badly right now. Could easily do so without any hesitation from her…and knowing that gave him the ability to resist.
“Yank harder, Ava.”
Her tugs became more persistent as her whimpers increased. Any second now. He thrust once more, pressing the heel of his palm against her. And then she exploded, her body convulsing around his fingers as the sound of her orgasm wrapped around him.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he gently rubbed her pulsing clit, loving the way her body jerked and her breath hitched with each pass over the sensitive bud. At length, her eyes slowly opened and she gazed back at him. He withdrew his fingers and released her wrists to brace both hands on either side of her head. Still she looked at him, said nothing. The only sound was the panting from her heaving chest.
Then she launched herself into his arms, latching her lips onto his as she jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. With a groan, he kissed her back, pressing her against the wall as his hands cradled the sides of her face, their tongues desperate.