When We Kiss (24 page)

F
OR THE FIRST
time in ages, maybe in forever, Liam let go of his emotions. He didn't try to hold himself in check or turn himself away from the light. He tasted her kiss, and he utterly surrendered.

He clutched her waist and held onto her as if she were the only thing keeping him on the ground in a hurricane. Her lips moved over his, playing, teasing at first. He was content to just hold her, to simply relish the moment.

But then she took command. She pivoted and pushed him back against the couch. He scooted backward as she straddled his thighs. Her mouth opened over his, and her tongue slipped past his lips. He was overcome with desire—it was both familiar and somehow different. It was far more than his body reacting to hers, it was his mind, his soul connecting with hers.

She gripped his shoulders and ground her hips down against him, her chest grazing his as the kiss deepened. He raked his hands up her back, gripping the soft cotton of her T-shirt. He arched up, his cock throbbing where it nestled between her legs.

He pulled at her shirt, tugging until she broke the kiss long enough for him to rip it over her head. He brought his hands around and cupped her breasts, groaning into her mouth while she rode him.

She returned the favor of removing his shirt, yanking it up his chest and tossing it over his head with a vicious flick of her wrist. She didn't renew the kiss. Instead she leaned back and ran her hands from the sides of his face to his collarbones, down over his pecs, then skimmed his abs. All the while, she stared at his naked chest, her teeth snagged on her lower lip. She looked utterly sexy, her red hair cascading over her shoulders and resting against the top of her pink, lacy bra.

She traced his abs with her fingertips. “I try not to think of the other women who've enjoyed this view.” She didn't look up, just kept her focus on his abdomen. “I imagine I'm the only one who gets to see this. Touch this. Taste this.” She pushed herself back off his lap and kneeled. She leaned forward to run her tongue over his nipples, then down, licking his flesh with delicate, maddening whorls.

He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and massaged the flesh there, losing himself to the exquisite pleasure of her mouth. He tried to find words. He didn't want anyone else doing what she was doing—none of it. No looking, no touching, no tasting. Just her eyes, her fingers, her lips, her tongue. “I'm yours,” was all he could manage.

She looked up at him then, her gaze hot, her lips curved into a saucy little smile. “For how long?”

“For as long as you want me.” It was as close to a promise as he could get. He
was
hers. He didn't want to be anyone else's.

She flicked open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down. She slid her hands back along his hips, pushing his clothes down. He came up off the couch to help her, and soon she was tugging everything from his legs—shoes, socks, pants, boxers.

She came back between his thighs, her palms pressing down on him as she eyed his cock. He watched through slitted lids as she encircled the base of his shaft with her fingers. “See, this right here. I'd like to think it's been mine all this time. Ever since that first time in my office.”

He stroked her jaw and looked into her gorgeous eyes. “It has. There's never been anyone but you. Not since then.”

“Not even after I dumped you?”

He couldn't help smiling, knowing the pride she took in breaking up with him. He shook his head. “What can I say? You ruined me for other women.”

Her mouth formed an O. “I'll be damned.” Then she took that mouth and covered the tip of his cock.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as sensation overtook his brain and every other part of his body. Her right hand held the base of his cock while her left cupped his balls. Her mouth worked absolute magic, licking and sucking, slowly at first. Then more quickly as her hand stroked him from base to tip.

Her nails raked his flesh, and he moaned. He fisted her hair, unable to stop himself from pumping into her mouth. She took him deep, making sounds in the back of her throat that only intensified his pleasure. His orgasm was building, and he was going to completely unload if she didn't stop.

“Aubrey,” he rasped. “Stop. I'm going to come.”

She only sucked him harder, her head bobbing with his thrusts. She squeezed his balls, and he was done. He shot into her mouth, his orgasm breaking over him. He cried out as he gave in to the darkness. But it was only dark for a moment. Then there was light. There was Aubrey.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was still trying to regain his breath. She sat on the edge of the coffee table wearing her bra and a very satisfied smirk.

“Well, that wasn't what I had in mind,” he said, taking in her mostly clothed state while he was buck naked.

“It's absolutely what I envisioned. Don't think I was giving you a gift—I wanted to do that. For me.”

He laughed, but he also didn't believe her. “Seeing everything you've done for Alex, for my family, you're the most giving person I know. I don't doubt you wanted to do that, but I also think you wanted to do it because you knew how much I'd love it.” He sat up and palmed the back of her neck as he kissed her fiercely. “And I did love it,” he whispered against her lips. “But now it's your turn. I'm taking you upstairs.”

She arched a brow. “Are you? Surrendering to your inner caveman again?”

God, how he loved this. He'd never had so much fun with a woman. She'd turned sex into something completely different. Because it wasn't sex, he realized.

He stood, pulling her up with him. “Surrendering to my need to make love to you. I'm picking you up now.” He swept her into his arms, and she twined her arms around his neck.

He carried her up to her bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. The room was near dark, but he had enough light from the stairwell to see her sprawled across the quilt. Though her feet were bare, the rest of her was far too covered. He climbed onto the bed and straddled her knees. He locked his gaze with hers as he stripped her jeans from her body. That left the pink lacy bra and the matching pink lacy underwear. He loved lingerie, especially on her—she had a body made for it—but he wasn't in the mood tonight. He wanted her nude and completely open to him in every way.

He moved up and slipped his hands underneath her back. She arched up so he could unfasten her bra. He whisked the garment away and stared down at her perfect breasts. Her nipples were pink and hard. He heard the hitch in her breath and smiled to himself.

He bent down and kissed her breast, starting at the top, then dragging his tongue down and around her nipple in aggravating circles. She clasped his head, and he pulled back.

He looked her in the eye. “Put your hands up on the headboard.”

She hesitated but complied, curling her hands around the top of the bed frame.

“Don't let go until I tell you to.” He went back to his task, torturing her breast with gentle licks and nips everywhere but where she wanted them. She gasped and huffed and begged him to stop.

“Oh, I don't think you want me to stop.” He lightly licked the nipple, and she nearly rocketed off the bed. “I think you want something else entirely. Tell me what you want, Aubrey.”

“Do what you normally do.”

“Not specific enough. I normally do a lot of things.”

“Suck me.”

He closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked. Hard. He cupped the underside, gripping her flesh and squeezing. She brought her hand down to his head and tugged at his hair.

He stopped, coming up and shaking his head at her. “I told you to keep your hands up here.” He took her hand and put it back on the headboard.

He ran his palm down her arm and then over the curve of her shoulder until he met her breast again. He didn't torment her this time. He cupped both of her mounds and pushed them together, bringing the nipples close enough so that he could suck and lick them both in quick succession. He moved between them, lavishing attention on each. She moaned and arched and spread her legs wider, her body telling him in every way possible that she wanted more.

But he wanted to hear her say it.

He let go of her breasts and skimmed his hands down her ribcage to her hips. He kissed her navel, then the flesh just above the small patch of fiery hair she kept so neatly trimmed.

He brought his hands to her thighs and pushed them even wider. “Tell me what you want, Aubrey.”

“Kiss me. There.”

He stripped off her panties. “Here?” He lightly touched her clit and grazed her wet folds with his fingertip.

“
Yes
.”

He did as she said, kissing her soft flesh but in a rather chaste fashion.

“You suck,” she said. “No, actually you don't. Kiss me with your
tongue
.”

He smiled against her flesh, enjoying the heady mix of intensity and lust in her tone. He kissed her again, this time using his tongue in the same way he'd use it on her mouth. He licked into her, using his lips to suckle her sweet flesh.

“Can I let go of the bed?” The words came out strangled. Desperate.

“
No
. If you let go, I stop.”

“You son of a bitch.”

He speared his tongue into her and licked up to her clit, then he sucked hard on the nub of flesh. She cried out, her hips jerking. “Liam! More. Your finger. Fuck me with your finger.
Please
.”

That time he hadn't even had to ask her what she wanted. But then Aubrey had always been incredibly responsive. They'd answered each other's wants and needs with alarming clarity, right from the day he'd met her. Damn, he just realized the day he'd met her was the first time they'd made love.

Yes, love. He loved her. So goddamned much it scared him to death. He kept everyone else he'd ever loved at arm's length. And that's exactly what he'd been doing to her. He didn't want to anymore.

“Liam!”

He held her flesh with his thumb and thrust his finger into her. He twisted and found her G-spot, pressing before stroking into her again and again with increased precision. He pushed at her thighs and kissed her deeply, tonguing her until she fucked his mouth. He sucked her clit and used his finger again, adding a second to put her over the edge at last.

He felt her orgasm shudder through her. “Let go, Aubrey. Let everything go.”

She released the headboard and tangled her hands in his hair as she bucked wildly. He worked her through the storm, easing her back to earth until she was still.

“Oh my God.” Her breath was hard and fast, her legs quivering around him.

He came up over her and brushed her hair from her face. She looked up at him, her eyes smoky and satisfied. “I love you. And not because you're fucking fantastic at that. I love you because you know me. You've always known me. Even that first time, you took me somewhere I'd never been. You swept me away from a really shitty day.”

He loved her, too, but he was afraid to say it. Afraid to make promises he wasn't sure he could keep. He still didn't know what he was doing tomorrow, let alone next week or next year. She wanted stability—she deserved that and so much more.

But the love he had for her was too great. It made him too happy in this moment, and for better or worse, he'd always lived in the moment. “I love you, too.” He kissed her long and deep, a slow seduction of lips and tongue.

She put her arms around him and held him close. After a while she curled her legs around his waist and brought her hand between them. She grasped his cock, which hadn't needed much time to rebound after their interlude downstairs, and positioned him at her entrance.

“Wait, condom,” he said.

“Damn, I almost forgot. You know I'm on birth control, right? And if you've been tested and haven't had any partners in well over a year, I'm good going without. But I'll understand if you don't want to.”

He desperately wanted to feel her skin-to-skin. “I can promise you I'm totally clean, and I don't doubt for a second that you are, too.”

“Yes.” She lifted her hips to urge him inside.

His fingertips grazed hers as he guided himself into her wet sheath. He closed his eyes as he entered her, the friction exquisite. “I, uh, I've never done this before.”

“You've always used a condom?”

He nodded, momentarily devoid of words as he seated himself fully inside of her. The sensation was mind-numbing, overwhelming, absolutely life-changing. He never wanted to feel this with anyone else. This was Aubrey's claim on him, and he would happily give it to her.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She was watching him, her eyes full of wonder. “I can't believe I get a first with Liam Archer. I must be pretty special.”

He kissed her softly, lingeringly. “You are far more special than you'll ever know.” He began to move, his hips gently rotating and thrusting. She moved with him. Her feet locked behind his ass.

As he stroked deeper, she moaned. Her legs gripped him more tightly, and their rhythm increased. It was slow and long, this dance. He savored every moment as sweat slicked their bodies. Gradually their pace increased until he was driving into her, and she was meeting him thrust for thrust. They came nearly together. Sensation rushed over him, crushing all rational thought as he surrendered completely to the utter bliss.

Later, as he held her and listened to the even sounds of her breathing while she slept, he marveled at what had transpired. He'd made love to her so many times before, but this had been revelatory. Unlike any other experience he'd ever had, in every way.

Because he loved her. Because he loved loving her. Because he was never going to be the same. He thought of his place, of where he belonged, and wondered if he might have finally found it at last.

A
UBREY HEARD
L
IAM
coming down the stairs just as she was pouring the coffee. As he came into the kitchen, she smiled at him and offered him a cup. “Good morning.”

“I think we covered that a bit ago, didn't we?” He flashed her a grin that she would gladly wake up to every single day. Then he kissed her, and she clutched his shoulder, grabbing his shirt as she kissed him back. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

She pulled back and picked up her coffee cup. “Is there a limit to the ways in which we can express our pleasure in starting the day?”

He sipped his coffee, then set it back down before snatching her by the waist and pulling her against him.

“Careful!” She held her cup with both hands lest it slosh all over him. Not that she wouldn't appreciate a reason to strip his clothes off again.

“To answer your question, no. There is no limit. And if I wasn't clear upstairs with how
good
this morning is, please allow me to rectify that.” He nibbled at her ear and kissed her neck.

Aubrey sighed, her mind traveling back to him rousing her from sleep with kisses along her throat followed by an absolutely X-rated wake-up call. “You were quite clear. I wish I didn't have to go to work. Unfortunately, I have a client meeting at nine.”

He raised his head, his eyes darkening with concern for the first time since she'd kissed him last night on the couch. “And I need to get home to talk to my parents. I, uh, I didn't leave my dad in the best shape yesterday.”

She winced. “Uh-oh, what happened?”

He stepped back from her and picked up his coffee, taking a sip. “It's just a mess. I looked at the flash drive, saw Alex's face, and I freaked out.” His mouth tightened. “Man, that pisses me off.”

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant. “What exactly?”

“The video, Alex. I just . . . never mind. I should really go.”

She needed to jump in the shower anyway and understood why he was anxious to leave. “I'm sure everything will be all right with your dad. The rest . . . We'll figure it out, too.”

He looked at her over the edge of his coffee mug. “Alex? Or are you talking about . . . us?”

“Both, I guess. I'll be here whenever you want to talk about our future.” Just because last night had been the most amazing night of her life and he'd said that he loved her—she still couldn't quite process that—it didn't mean he was moving back to Ribbon Ridge. “I'm hoping there's a future.”

“I want that, too.” He put his cup back down on the counter and took hers and did the same. He placed his hands on her waist and drew her close. “Hey, I meant what I said last night. I'm in love with you. I don't know how that happened, but it makes me feel better than I have in a long time. Maybe in forever.”

Her heart was so full of joy, she was afraid it might explode right out of her chest. She splayed her hands over the front of his soft shirt. “I love you, too. We'll figure things out.”

He kissed her again, then let her go. “I hope so.”

She frowned, wishing he sounded more confident about their future. “What does that mean?”

He moved around the corner of the island, giving her at least the visual sense that she was driving him away. “It means I don't know anything right now, and there's a lot to figure out. I know you love Ribbon Ridge, but I can't live here. At least not full-time.”

He
can't
live here? She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the island, trying not to get worked up by his seemingly nonnegotiable attitude. “I can't split my time between Denver and Ribbon Ridge,” she said. “I have clients, responsibilities. My uncle wants me to take over his law firm when he retires. Not to mention, I'm not a member of the Colorado bar.”

“I know. That's why we have to figure things out.”

She put the brakes on her emotions before she panicked. They loved each other. They'd been so happy last night, this morning.
Chill, Aubrey.
“Why won't you move back to Ribbon Ridge?”

He took a drink of coffee, then went to the TV room, where he sat down to put on his boots. “Aside from the fact that I live in Denver and my business is there?” He shook his head. “Look, I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but my life is in Colorado.”

She moved toward the couch and watched him. “I'd argue that your life could be here. Everyone you care about is in Ribbon Ridge. You wouldn't have to sell your business in Denver. You could fly back and forth when necessary. I'd miss you, but I'd deal.” Their time apart would absolutely suck, but it would be better than no time at all.

He stood up. “It sounds like you'd want my home base to be here. I can't do that.” His gaze was direct, unflinching. Frustrating as hell.

She didn't understand his reticence. “Why not?”

“Aubrey, I don't really want to get into this.”

“I know you have to go. We can talk about it later.” She tried not to be irritated and failed miserably. Happiness was so close. For both of them.

He looked at her and ran his hand over his face. Then he made a sound that was part grunt and part defeated groan.

He came to her and took her hand. “Look. I'm going to tell you something that I've never told anyone before, until last night. I started to talk about it to Dad, then I bailed. Once you hear it, you'll understand why I need to go, and I suspect you might just tell me to go to Denver and never come back.”

She ran her thumb over the back of his hand. “I'd never do that.” Even when she wanted to throttle him, as she had a moment ago.

He looked down at their hands. “You might. There's a reason I don't dwell on Alex, that I don't . . . grieve. It's my fault he's dead.” His voice was cold, dispassionate. It was completely at odds with what he was saying—and it worried her.

She squeezed his hand. “No, it's not.”

“Not my fault exactly, but I could've saved him. I should've saved him.” He looked at her, and his eyes were more anguished than she'd ever seen them. They were dark and flat, tortured. She'd compare them to the way they were during that first explosive encounter in her office, but this was worse.

“I knew he was sick—bipolar. He told me back in college. It was one of many secrets we kept.”

“Like the extreme sports.”

His eyes flickered with surprise. “You knew all about that, then?”

She nodded. “He told me.”

“He must have liked you. He certainly trusted you. What else did he tell you?”

“Nothing about his mental state. Remember, he lied to me about his actual health. He told me he probably wouldn't see thirty. Naively, I believed him.” How she wished she could turn back the clock and ask for medical records. As if she really would've done that. It wasn't like he'd asked for help with legally assisted suicide.

“Don't beat yourself up about that. He was diabolical in his planning. You saw that video last night.”

Yes, and she was angry with Alex all over again. His death seemed to be the gift that kept on giving. The most horrible gift in the history of gifts.

“Anyway, Alex and I had a pretty good relationship from afar,” he continued. “We liked it that way because we didn't have to be constantly reminded of the other person. He came up with stunts and sports for me to try, and I videotaped it all so he could live it with me.” He frowned. “Not that he actually lived it. I'd fooled myself into thinking that it was a mutually appreciated arrangement, but I was wrong. He wasn't happy. He was worse than miserable. He was plotting his own death.”

He stepped away from her and walked over to the window seat. She waited patiently for him to continue. He turned but didn't look at her. He focused somewhere on the wall near the couch. “You know that he called Tori the night that he died, that she didn't get the call. He called me, too, but I answered.”

Aubrey lifted her hand to her mouth, so afraid of what he might say next.

“He called me late sometimes. He'd be drunk or just manic. He'd ramble, I'd listen. End of call. That night was no different, except his ramblings were extra dark. He talked about our relationship. He thanked me for staying away but said I could come home now. That it was all over. I . . . I didn't think anything of it. It wasn't unusual. I had no idea . . . ”

She crossed the room but stopped a few feet in front of him because he still wasn't looking at her.

“He said he was glad he had me. No, what he said exactly was, ‘I'm glad you're with me now.' Then he went quiet, and I thought he fell asleep. I hung up.” He looked at her then, and his eyes were surprisingly dry. “My dad interrupted my run the next morning when he called to tell me Alex was dead.”

Aubrey felt tears stream from her eyes, their wet heat tracking down her cheeks unheeded.

“You see, if I'd listened to him, if I'd realized he was
that
sick and wasn't getting the help I thought he was, I would've handled that phone call completely differently. But I didn't. Instead, I just sat there half-asleep and listened to him die.” His voice was raw, ragged, but there were no tears in his eyes, just a cold anguish that ate at her heart.

When she'd thought of the guilt he'd endured his whole life, she'd wondered how he'd managed. But this . . . this went so far beyond what she'd ever imagined. “Oh my God, Liam.” She went to him and touched his face, cupping his cheeks. “You just pushed this out of your head for the past fifteen months?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do with it?”

“I don't know. Talk about it? Get therapy? Let it out? No one's strong enough to deal with this alone.”

He wiped her tears away, and she dropped her hands from his face. “I'm
not
dealing with it, that's the point.”

“But you should.”

“Why, so I can relive that horror over and over again as I talk through it with a therapist? No thanks. Like I said, I've never told anyone, because I block it out of my mind. Being here in Ribbon Ridge around my family only dredges it up.” He took a deep breath. “Now you know why I can't come back.”

“No, now I know why you need to deal with this, so you
can
come back.”

He shook his head, his eyes now sparking with anger. “I don't want to. I don't need to. My life is great.”

She took a step back from him. “You can't possibly believe that. You were a mess when you came over last night.”

“Only because of that goddamned video. I'm never watching it again, and I don't plan to discuss it with anyone.” He pivoted toward the door, then turned back, as if he'd forgotten something. “There's a reason I never asked you for my letter from Alex. I didn't want it. He said his good-bye that night, and I didn't need another one. Damn it, Aubrey, this is my life. Don't tell me what I need to do.”

She loved him so much, but love alone wasn't enough. “I was hoping it might be
our
life, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Don't say that. Look, I have to go. We can talk about this later. I wish you'd think about coming to Denver. You'd be happy there. With me.”

“I'm happy
here
, Liam. This is my home.” She'd already built her life here, just as he'd done in Denver. And it looked like neither one of them was going to compromise. “Go talk to your dad. I'll see you later.” Or not.

He nodded, then left.

She couldn't imagine where they would go from here.

L
IAM DIDN
'
T BOTHER
parking his bike in the garage. He was too anxious to get inside to see Dad. He felt terrible about leaving him last night. He went into the kitchen, but it was empty. Considering the time, he figured Dad was likely in his office, where he liked to drink his coffee and read his e-mail before heading to Archer.

Liam made his way to the front of the house and paused when he saw Dad—and Mom—sitting at the table situated in the front bay window. They were reading their iPads and drinking coffee, or probably tea in Mom's case.

Mom saw him first, her eyes widening. “You're back.”

Dad turned his head and took his glasses off. “Where have you been?” The question came out sharp, a bit angry.

Liam deserved that. He went into the office and dropped into the other chair at the table. He sprawled his legs out and draped his arms over the sides of the wood chair. “I spent the night at Aubrey's.” He saw no reason to hide that. He'd shielded his emotions for so long, and he didn't want to do it anymore—at least not about her. He wanted to bury his feelings about Alex so deep that an excavation team couldn't find them.

“You're seeing her, then?” Mom asked. “I like her a lot.”

“Actually, I'm in love with her. I've been seeing her—off and on—since Alex died.” He let a wry smile lift his lips. “You could say he brought us together.”

Mom folded her iPad closed. “Like Kyle and Maggie.”

Yeah, that made sense. Maggie had been Alex's therapist, and Kyle had sought her out to find the person who'd sold Alex the drugs he'd used to commit his ghastly final act.

Dad leaned back in his chair and studied Liam. “As happy as I am for you, I have to interrupt that good news to talk about what you said last night.”

Liam glanced at Mom. “I'd rather not repeat it.” Ever.

“You don't have to. I already told your mother. We don't have any secrets. Not anymore.” He reached over and put his hand over hers, which rested on the table.

Great, so now Mom knew how he'd completely failed Alex.

“We don't blame you, Liam.” Mom sniffed, but a tear leaked from her eye anyway.

Dad got up and fetched a box of tissues from his desk, which he set on the table. “Good thing we bought stock in this tissue company last year.”