He’s building a cabin. A cabin that I painted. On my corner of reckless.
Because Liam is here for me.
He might just be crazy enough to be serious about all this.
It’s like I keep hearing all the right words, and none of my arguments are saving me from making a huge mistake. I’ve never found a guy—outside of home—who was as crazy as I am.
And just like that, I’m an idiot.
Apparently stupid is the winner, and stubborn is decidedly the runner up.
I’m climbing over the bar in the next second, and he grabs me at the waist, jerking me to him as his lips crash against mine. His hands move to my hips, moving me to sit on the edge so he can stand between my legs and devour me more thoroughly.
One of his hands slides into my hair, gripping a handful—something only he’s allowed to do. Not sure why I don’t mind him touching my hair.
I moan into his mouth as he lifts me off the bar, and my legs strap around his waist as he carries me through the house.
“You’re too good at saying the right things,” I murmur against his lips, expecting him to smile.
He drops me to a bed suddenly, coming down on top of me as the kiss breaks, and he stares directly into my eyes, nothing but seriousness on his face.
“Because I said a lot of the wrong things last time, and suddenly you were gone. You’re not too damn easy to get over.”
I end up being the one who grins as I pat his cheek. “I’ll show you some of my crazy later on. Not today, though.”
He looks so adorably confused, since that seems random. Just wait until he sees the artwork that shows the crazy I’m talking about; it won’t sound so random then.
Instead of questioning me, since that never gets him anywhere, he kisses me again, slowly this time, tasting every bit of me to see if I’m real or just a mirage. I kiss him the same way, wondering if I’ve jumped into a delusional fantasy of mine where Liam comes to Tomahawk to be with me.
Finally, I shove him off me, and he blinks like he’s trying to break out of a daze. Quickly, I pull his shirt off me, revealing the fact I never had a bra to put on.
His eyes immediately go to my chest, and I grin as I start shoving his boxers down my legs too.
“We can’t have sex with clothes on,” I point out.
He’s off the bed and tugging his shirt off in the next minute. I tell myself I’m only doing this because Liam just wants something he never had. Sex with me. Yep, it sounds ridiculous to me too, because what guy moves to Tomahawk, of all places, just to have sex with some girl he hung out with for three weeks.
We’re both crazy.
But I can’t fall too soon, or my heart will be his to crush in less than an hour.
As soon as he’s naked, I sort of gawk at him. He looks way better than I remember, and I didn’t think that was possible. Pretty sure my memory was robbing me of how perfect his body is because it didn’t want me running back to LA to see if he was healthy enough to satisfy my curiosity.
I crawl forward on the bed, and he watches me until I’m close enough for him to touch. The second I am, he has a hand in my hair again, and he’s coming down on top of me as he pushes me back.
Our lips touch with more hunger this time, both of us wanting this a little more than what is probably healthy.
His hard body slides over mine, grinding against me, and my legs open wider in invitation, ready for both of us to get put out of our misery.
I’m not sure how long we lie like that, naked and just kissing, hands exploring each other like we’ve forgotten how right this all feels, not even minding all the dried mud. But when Liam breaks the kiss, his eyes search mine before his lips tug in a sideways grin.
“You have no idea how good it feels to finally have you back,” he murmurs, causing my heart to stumble.
I’m almost too distracted and lost in this haze of ours when he starts pushing inside me, his lips back on mine and kissing me stupid.
“Condom,” I finally manage to say, reality slapping back at me.
His head comes back, his body still partially intruding mine, and he cocks his head.
“You’re off birth control?”
I slowly shake my head.
“But that doesn’t mean this should happen without a condom.”
Yeah, no. That’s a boundary. We cross that boundary, then that means we’re doing this for real. And if it’s real, then I’m going to be lost so damn fast…
Not that I tell him that.
He tries not to look disappointed, but clears his throat and pushes off me. He forces a smile, and says, “You’re right. That was stupid of me.”
I admit, I stare after him like a starved-for-sex woman as his gloriously naked body moves to the connected bathroom, and my gaze rakes over him all over again when he reemerges.