Liam's List (19 page)

In time, I also learned to set and establish
boundaries with Liam.

He never felt comfortable attending parties
or social gatherings, not even Katie’s backyard barbecues that she
hosted with regularity every single weekend.

And so Liam would honor his boundaries by
staying home.

I, in turn, would honor mine by going.

In the past, I’d often
felt obligated to stay home because I felt guilty about going
without him. But now I understood that he needed his space, and I
realized in order for me to be strong for him, I needed to
get
Team Me
together.

It was the little things like this that
helped strengthen our relationship.

I also learned to read his body language, and
I could tell right away if he was having a good day or a bad one.
Today, thankfully, was a good day.

“
I’m taking Atticus to the
dog park,” I told him. “Do you want to come?”

“
Sure,” Liam said easily,
snapping his book shut and tossing it aside.

“
Oh.” My lips curved into
a subtle smile. “So you don’t have a session with your wife
today?”

He laughed. “You mean my therapist?”

I sauntered toward him, hands crossed over my
chest. “Uh-huh,” I said with sass. “Therapist my ass.”

His muscled chest moved in
a silent chuckle. “His name is Dr. Gregory Evans. And no,
Viv,
he
is not my
wife.”

“
You spend so much time
with him, he may as well be your wife.” I gave his shoulder a
playful smack. “But it’s okay. I’m not jealous of Dr.
Georgia
Evans with
melons the size of Montana and nipples the size of Georgia
peaches.”

“
Gregory
,” he corrected. With a low
growl, he snaked his arms around my hips and my back collided with
a wall of heat and strength. “And Dr. Gregory Evans does
not
have melons.
Now
you
on the
other hand…” He rested his chin on my shoulder and his hands came
around to shape my breasts.

“
Mmm.” A husky moan eased
from my throat as he kneaded the soft weight of my breasts. “Maybe
we should postpone our walk.”

“
Woof!” Atticus goosed him
from behind and we collapsed into laughter.

Once that dog heard his favorite four-letter
word “walk,” there was no calming him down. He was already bouncing
off the walls and doing ninja flips.

“
All right, buddy! Let’s
go! Let’s go!” The moment I snapped on his leash, Atticus lurched
toward the front door, chugging forward, straining against his
harness.

Liam shook his head and treated me to one of
his wide, teasing smiles. “Are you walking the dog, or is the dog
walking you?”

The sun hung in the air like a ruby-red
grapefruit. Liam and I stood side by side, our shadows bleeding
across the overgrown turf. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to wipe
the smile off my face as I gazed on at Atticus, somewhat in awe of
his boundless energy and happy spirit.

I bumped my shoulder against Liam’s, nudging
him in our dog’s direction. “Can you believe our boy is doing so
well?”

Months ago, we’d adopted Atticus from the
local rescue shelter, knowing full well he had terminal cancer. The
vet had informed us that Atticus only had months to live, maybe
only weeks. But we didn’t have the heart to let such a beautiful
dog wither away and die in a shelter. We wanted his finals days to
be good and comfortable and in a home where he was loved and cared
for. And here he was, still so strong. Still bursting with
life.

Meanwhile, Atticus was following dog
etiquette with simple elegance, timeless poise, and the utmost
refinement. In short, he said, “Hello,” by cramming his face
between a poodle’s hind legs and shoving his wet nose directly up
her bum.

Liam’s smile was full of pride. “Dogs are
just like men. They believe every moment alive is an opportunity to
sniff more ass.”

“
Hey!” I delivered a solid
punch to his arm. “My ass better be the only ass you’re
sniffing!”

“
Are you asking me to
sniff your ass?” Before I could respond, he brought his face close
to my ear and dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “You’re a
naughty girl.”

“
You’re such a dweeb.” I
elbowed him in the ribs. “You know exactly what I was trying to
say.”

“
What?” He laughed, tried
to choke it back when he saw the look on my face, and then laughed
some more. “What
were
you trying to say?”

“
Never mind.” My lingering
irritation dissolved when a bold idea began to take root. Actually,
it was one of Chelsea’s ideas. It seemed almost ridiculous at the
time, but now… maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous after all.

Before I lost my nerve, I cleared my throat
and said, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“
Oh, yeah?”

“
I’ve been thinking…” I
stared ahead as I spoke, watching Atticus dry hump the air. “Since
you think I’m a naughty girl, there is something naughty I’d like
you to do.”

His reply came easily. “For you, baby
cakes—anything.”

“
Baby cakes?” I pulled a
face. “BABY CAKES?”

“
What?” he said. “You
prefer
sweet thang
?” When I simply blinked at him, he tried again.
“
Sweet cheeks,
maybe? Dumpling? Buttercup?”

“
No, no, no,” I said,
managing a dismissive laugh. “I prefer something a little more
Parisian.”

“
Like what?”

“
Hmm…” I considered a
moment. “How about
ma
puce
? I learned it in my French class. It
means sweetie or love or honey. But the literal translation is ‘my
flea.’”

“
My flea?” he repeated.
His mocking smile turned into one of genuine amusement. “You’d like
me to call you
my flea
?”

“
No!” I cut him a stern
look. “You’re supposed to say it in French.
Ma puce
.”

His eyes gleamed with
humor. “
Ma puce
,”
he said with flair, enunciating with a thick French
accent.

I beamed at him beatifically. “Thank you for
trying, my little scorch muffin.”

“
I prefer stud muffin,” he
said, circling his arms around my waist. “Or you can just call me
your
man
.”

I smothered a giggle. “All
right, my old man. This
thing
I’d like you to do, it’s not for me. It’s
actually for
you
.”

“
Go on,
ma puce
. I’m
listening.”

“
I was just thinking.” I
chewed on my bottom lip. “How it’d be a good idea for you to make a
bucket list.”

One of his brows rose slowly. “You mean a
sexual one?”

I fought the blush
creeping up my face. “Not necessarily,” I said carefully. “It can
be anything. Sexual, not sexual, it doesn’t matter. It just has to
be all about what
you
want.”

After a moment, his eyes warmed with a
familiar glimmer. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it. But
you’ve definitely played a part in plenty of my fantasies.”

“
Well, think about it
right now,” I said. “Or just tell me about some of those
fantasies.”

“
I will.” He sent me a
lazy grin. “But first you have to tell my why you want me to make
up this list.”

“
Well…” I hesitated before
continuing. “I realize sometimes when we have sex… you’re just
trying to numb yourself.” I exhaled slowly, giving him a searching
look. “But I want it to be
more than
that
for you.”

I could tell the moment my meaning sank in.
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, as he absorbed the force of my
words.

And I did want it to
be
so much more
for him. I wanted to help him feel alive. I wanted it so much
it hit me in a wave, bringing on a sense of urgency in its wake.
“Now tell me. What’s at the top of your list?”

The corners of his mouth
quirked in a lopsided grin. “You
don’t
wanna know.”

“
C’mon, you said you’d
tell me.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not some prude, you
know. I’ve read
Fifty Shades of
Grey
.”

He shook his head. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“
I’m not gonna laugh. I
promise.” I held up a hand. “Scouts honor.”

“
Top of my list,” he
hedged, pushing a hand through his hair. “Topless ping
pong.”

Laughter bubbled up in my throat. “Topless
ping pong?” I squawked. “With me?”

He shot me a look as
though to say,
Do you really have to
ask
?

“
All right, all right.” I
willed my smile to remain. “That actually sounds like fun. What
else?”

His gaze turned inward as he pondered. I’d
always loved this about him, the way he mulled ideas over in his
head. Taking my hand in his, he lightly brushed the sensitive skin
at my wrist, a butterfly of a touch. “Someday, I’d love to go on a
road trip with you.”

“
I love road trips!” I
enthused. “Okay! What else?”

Again, his gaze became thoughtful. Finally,
he said, “Ever heard of splitting the mountains?”

“
Splitting the mountains?”
I drew a blank. “As in you want to blow up the Grand Canyon when we
go on our road trip?”

“
No.” He barely concealed
his laughter. “As in I’d love to split
your
mountains.”

“
My mountains?” I said,
cocking my head to one side.

He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared
his throat twice before adding, “You know, pound your pillows.”

Clarity descended on me.
“Ohhh. I
see
.”
Heat crept up my neck and cheeks. “We can certainly do that. And
you can even give me a pearl necklace. See!” I said with a
self-satisfied smile. “I’m not some Mary Sue who lives under a
rock.”

Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead
against mine, touching our noses. “I never said you were.”

“
Go on.” My voice held a
challenge. “What else? This is pretty staid stuff so
far.”

He shifted slightly so his lips grazed my
ear. “I like it when you talk dirty,” he whispered roughly. “Tell
me a secret so dirty it turns you on just to say it.”

“
Um…” I hesitated,
suddenly unsure of what to say. Sexting was one thing, but talking
dirty was a whole ’nother beast. I started to play
Scrabble
in my head,
trying to figure out which words Liam would like and which words
would make him literally burst into hysterics.

“
All right,” he said
decisively. “I’ll go first.”

My pulse quickened. “Okay,” I managed to
say.

“
Tonight, I want you to
sit on my face so I can eat my way to your core. I want you to come
for me and cream my mouth with your honey.” His voice was velvet
soft, a rasp of pleasure so sweet I felt it lance through my entire
body, sizzling through my veins and my pussy.

I moaned as he took my earlobe between his
teeth. “Do you think you can do that?”

Swallowing hard, I completely lost my train
of thought. “Do what?”

He simply gave me
a look
.

A scorching look.

One that spoke without words.

One that felt like a brand against my
skin.

Blinking rapidly, I stammered out, “Sit on
your face? Um, sure… I think I can manage that. Just as long as you
say the words: ‘Permission to dock granted.’”

“
Vivian Marie
Sorenson
,” he breathed my name, struggling
and failing to keep a straight face. “You are such a dork.” He
slipped his hands inside the back pockets of my denim shorts,
drawing me firmly against the hard ridge of his
erection.

The inner seams of my shorts and the sharp,
metal zipper pressed with delicious friction against my sensitized
clit. The air around us took on an electric charge, and a warm and
humming energy connected us.

From the heat flooding through us and around
us, you would think our bodies were pressed together, skin to
skin.

His tongue flashed inside my ear, and I felt
live electricity singe my nerve endings.

“
So.” My breath caught,
and my voice grew high and thin. “Now that I’ve heard all your
fantasies, what say we go home and make them a reality?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Vivian

Liam was stretched out in bed, gloriously
naked, and without a tremor of self-consciousness. Propped up on
one elbow, I raked my nails over every slope and sinew of his
muscled torso. “Tell me,” I bit out quietly. “What do you want?” My
fingers strayed lower, following the faint trail of hair leading
down to his groin.

I heard him groan as my hand grazed over his
long, veined shaft, loving the smooth, warm skin there.

God. He was so hung. And so hard.

Our gazes tangled, and the dark intensity in
his stare sent my pulse racing. “I want you. Now. On top of
me.”