Something more is brewing between us.
Something neither of us can shove back into the safe little box we’ve kept it in for so long.
At the house, Liam parks the UTV and jumps out, circling around to my side. He holds out his hand, palm up, solid and steady. Without hesitation, I slip mine into his. The warmth of his skin seeps into me, chasing away the last of the morning chill.
He doesn’t let go, not even when we step inside, not even when we kick off our boots in the mudroom.
It’s quiet. Only the soft sound of the rain pattering against the roof, the faint creak of the old wood floors under our feet.
And then when we finally turn to face each other, something snaps. The space between us combusts like a spark, hitting dry timber. Liam’s eyes lock onto mine, wild, raw, hungry, and in the same breath, we move. No hesitation. No second-guessing. No fear.
His hands are on my waist, pulling me into him while mine find the front of his jacket, fisting the fabric like I’m afraid he’ll disappear if I let go. Our mouths crash together, not soft this time, but hot and messy and real. His hands slide up my back, palms rough and sure, mapping me like he’s waited his whole life to touch me like this.
I gasp against his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, stealing the breath from my lungs and replacing it with him.
He crowds me back until my spine hits the wall, but I don't care. I need the pressure. Need to feel him. Need to make sure this isn’t just some beautiful, impossible dream.
His thigh wedges between mine, and without thinking, I arch into him, chasing the heat, the friction… everything I've been aching for. Liam groans into my mouth, the sound guttural, and it wrecks me right back.
When we finally break apart, we’re both gasping, the air between us thick and ragged.
His hands are still on me, possessive and trembling slightly.
“Fuck, Olive,” he rasps, voice so raw it scrapes down my spine. “I don't think I can stop.”
I close my eyes for half a second. Long enough to feel the full weight of the choice hanging between us. And then I lift my gaze to his.
“Then don’t,” I whisper.
The second the words leave my mouth, it’s over. Liam growls low in his throat, the sound more felt than heard. And then he’s on me again. His mouth crashing into mine, his hands sliding everywhere at once like he can’t decide where he needs to touch me most. He kisses me like a man starved, devouring every gasp, every whimper, every shattered breath I give him.
My fingers find the buttons of his shirt and I fumble them open, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He shrugs out of itlike he can’t get it off fast enough, yanking it over his shoulders and tossing it blindly to the floor.
God, he’s beautiful.
Golden skin stretched over solid muscle, his chest heaving, his blue eyes dark with need so fierce it leaves me dizzy.
He cups my face, gentling the kiss for a beat, letting me catch my breath.
“You sure, honey?” he murmurs against my lips, voice rough and aching.
I nod, threading my fingers through his hair, tugging him back down to me.
“So sure,” I whisper.
He makes a sound like he’s breaking apart and finds my mouth again, slower this time, deeper. His hands roam down my sides, finding the hem of my hoodie and sliding underneath, dragging it upward with agonizing slowness. When he peels it off, his gaze roves over me like he’s memorizing every inch.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, like a prayer.
Heat blooms under my skin, and I arch into him without shame.
Liam lifts me effortlessly, carrying me a few stumbling steps down the hall with laughter, breathless kisses, whispered curses spilling between us until he finds the nearest bedroom.
The door clicks shut behind us.
And then there’s only touch and heat and the sweet, wild certainty that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
We just look at each other, breathing hard, the air crackling between us.
