Only one scene left.
Liam was both drained and wired, pacing the cramped space between takes like he couldn’t contain the current burning through him. Every time his eyes caught on Jacob’s, something inside him threatened to break wide open. He never held the look for longer than a heartbeat.
Jacob hadn’t spoken a word since their walk through the woods. He sat off to the side, silence wound tight around him, yet beneath it Liam swore he felt the simmer—the fire he held back with nothing but sheer restraint.
Liam had lied. He knew it. He’d told Jacob he couldn’t be his, as if the words were fact and last night hadn’t happened. As if his body hadn’t shattered open and given Jacob everything. Jacobwasn’t going to let it stand. Liam felt the promise in every glance that burned from across the set.
The final scene of the day was a kiss. They’d blocked it yesterday. It was supposed to be short and gentle, nothing more than a simple peck on the lips before the fade to black.
“Quiet on set!” Ellen called from behind the monitor. “Scene thirty-B, cabin interior, last take of the day. Let’s get this clean.”
“Rolling,” came the call.
The cabin fell into silence.
“Action.”
Jacob didn’t wait for Liam to come to him; the way the script demanded. He crossed the room in three strides, caught Liam by the shirt, and crushed their mouths together.
The shock of it ripped a gasp out of him. He staggered, off-balance. It was humiliating how quickly he gave in and melted into the kiss. His lips parted and his hands flew up, clutching at Jacob’s shoulders.
Jacob deepened the kiss, dragging his tongue slowly across Liam’s lip before pushing inside. The script had called for gentle; Jacob gave devastation. He tilted Liam’s head into the angle he wanted, mouth sensual, tongue demanding, each movement deliberate. He bit down on Liam’s lower lip—just enough for him to gasp again and to feel it in his bones.
“Cut!” Ellen’s voice sliced through the air.
Jacob didn’t stop because this wasn’t for the cameras. This wasn’t for anyone else in the room. It was for Liam. For the lie he’d told earlier. For every second Liam had tried to pretend he wasn’t alreadyhis.
Jacob drew back only when he chose to, his grip unyielding, piercing blue eyes fixed on Liam with a conviction that left no room to run. He leaned in again, close enough for his breath to ghost over Liam’s ear. For his whispered words to strike hard and irrevocably.“I told you… you’re mine.”
Then he stepped back, composed, unshaken, as though nothing had happened.
The crew had stilled, a beat of stunned silence hanging thick in the air. There were a few raised brows, and a muttered “Jesus” came from somewhere near the lights. Ellen grinned, wide and unbothered. “Print it. That was—wow, that was something.”
Liam’s pulse refused to slow, his breathing still ragged. He couldn’t look away, not when Jacob’s stare locked him in place, branding the truth across his skin.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.
Chapter 26
Liam
He hadn’t moved since coming back to his room, not even to unlace his boots or to shrug out of his jacket. He sat in the only chair by the window, hands dangling between his knees, every muscle in his body humming like it had forgotten how to be still.
He felt claimed down to the marrow, and maybe that was exactly what had happened. Jacob hadn’t been performing in front of the crew; he had been branding him as his, right there for anyone to see. The worst part was that he hadn’t even tried to stop him. Liam had kissed him back and clung to him like some starved idiot desperate for heat.
His insides twisted, guilt and need tangling until he couldn’t tell them apart. His body never hesitated with Jacob. No matter how many times he told himself this wasn’t him, wasn’t the kind of man he was, his body didn’t care. It betrayed him every single time.
His phone lit up on the wooden desk beside him, Emma’s name glowing against the screen. He stared at it as if it might disappear if he waited long enough, his chest tightening at the sight.
He picked up just before the final ring. “Hey.”
Her voice came soft and familiar. “Hi, honey. You sound tired.”
He pressed a hand to the back of his neck. “Yeah. Long day.”
“Everything okay?”
No. The truth sat heavy in his throat. He had kissed and touched a man like his life depended on it, and now he was lying again—to his wife, the mother of his unborn child. He swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash. “Yeah. Just exhausted. I was about to shower and head out to eat.”
