Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“At least the rain let up,” she said as Liam drove, and he only nodded.
He’d remained quiet since they’d been in the car. A beat-up faded ball cap backward on his head and a pair of Gatorz sunglasses shielding his eyes were preventing her from getting a better read on him.
Every so often he’d fidget with the material of his plain gray tee as if it were hot in the car, even though she was pretty sure he was trying to freeze her to death with the blasting AC.
Right now, he was rocking the look of a surfer playboy with his laid-back clothes and golden skin. Yet, despite his board shorts, tee, and flip-flops—he couldn’t shake the badass SEAL vibe he gave off.
But every time she thought about what had happened between them only a few hours ago, her cheeks would burn, and she was grateful for the ice-cold temperature of the Suburban.
She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Sam was right about Liam.
“Honey, I love you, but this guy is not like the guys you date in D.C. He’s great. But he’ll break your heart,” Sam had warned her on Valentine’s Day when they’d all been together at a nightclub in Manhattan.
Sam had brought Emily to New York City for a girls’ night back in February, but the boys had come home from work earlier than expected. When they walked through the club doors, her heart had catapulted into her throat at the sight of Liam.
Knox had pulled her to the dance floor, but then Liam had stolen her away from him not even a few minutes later.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he’d whispered into her ear when the DJ had switched the music to a slower song.
“You want to be my Valentine?” she’d half-joked, her brain knocking down Sam’s warnings swimming in her head with Liam’s body so close to hers.
“I’m not allowed to,” he’d said near her ear, his breath tickling her. “But I’ll be damned if I let some wanker at this club try and bother you.”
“So, you’re going to be like a big brother to me, huh?”
He’d pulled back and grinned. “I’d prefer you never think of me like a brother,” he’d said, the huskiness of his tone hard to miss despite the music.
And now they were married.
“You okay?” It was the first time actual words had escaped his lips since they’d gotten into the SUV.
“Trying to be.” But she also wanted to clear the air, just pull off the Band-Aid and talk about what happened at the motel.
She clutched the coffee he’d grabbed her at the drive-through but didn’t take a sip. He hadn’t asked her how she took her coffee because of course he’d remember the one time she’d ordered a vanilla latte at breakfast with him in Charleston.
“What’d you do after I fell back asleep?” She only hoped her question didn’t sound as awkward as it did in her head.
His gaze winged her way, a hard look in his eyes. “What do you think I did?” His brows rose. “Prepped for the trip.”
“Before or after you jerked off?” And . . . I just said that.
He looked back at the road and remained quiet, but he clenched his teeth, that familiar tightening of his jawline evident. He slightly shifted on his seat as if uncomfortable and his free hand settled atop his lap.
“Well, are we going to talk about what happened or not?”
He made some sort of grunt noise, like it was the last thing he wanted to do. But she needed to talk about it, so she wasn’t ready to give up.
“I get why you refrained. I probably even owe you one for it because wrong time wrong place, but—”
“Yeah, I knew a ‘but’ was coming.” A lighter tone touched his words.
“But I don’t like that you think you’re bad for me, or that I can’t handle you.” She positioned her coffee back in the cup holder between them. “I’m well aware of your reputation. And sex can be cathartic.”
He chuckled. “‘Cathartic,’ huh?”
“After what we’ve been through, it’s okay to let loose and let go.” As long as I don’t fall in the process.
“You don’t really want to let go. Not with me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re conflicted.” He removed his sunglasses and looked over at her. “You know how I know? Because I’m confused, too.”
Confused? “You wanted me back at that motel as much as I wanted you. You admitted it, and—”
“I wanted to rip off your panties and use your shirt as a blindfold while I robbed you of every last breath—fucking you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk today. And then I wanted to do it again. With you on top. Your tits bouncing while you rode me.”
A string of holy shits flew through her mind, and her knees bumped as she squeezed her thighs together.
“Basically, I wanted to do what we did back in Vegas. But for longer. A bit harder. And with you remembering this time.”
Her palms went to her cheeks, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide her reaction to his comment.
He slipped his sunglasses back in place and returned his focus to the road as if he hadn’t just dropped her jaw.
“But we’re about to meet up with my team to go after one of the sickest bastards in cartel history, in addition to some unknown asshole wanting to buy an eight-year-old girl for ten million dollars.
A girl who, as it happens, will only talk to me.
” He clenched the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.
“So, I’m going to do my best not to pull this car over and have you hop on top of me and grind on me like you did last night. ”
Her entire body flushed with warmth, buzzing from the heat of his words.
When he slowed the car and actually did pull off to the side of the road a moment later, she grabbed the oh-shit handle as he spun in his seat.
He was breathing hard like he was fighting his desire to grab hold of her.
“But this is why you’re my not-type type.”
She almost laughed at his choice of words, especially when a small grin swept to his lips.
“Because I can’t resist you, and that makes you dangerous.” His palms went to his legs, and he dropped his head. “When I was going after Elaina in Argentina, I missed a shot. I never miss. But I was thinking about you and Vegas, and I missed.”
She closed her eyes at his admission, at the meaning of his words.
“I’m telling you because you said you’re honest to a fault, and maybe I want to be more like you.”
“I don’t want to be the reason why you or your teammates get hurt.” She forced her eyes back open.
He reached across the console, steam still drifting in the air from their drinks, and grabbed hold of her hand. “I’m not blaming you or telling you to make you feel guilty.”
“You just want me to understand I can make you lose your focus.” She took a deep breath, hoping to sidestep the mounting emotions rising to the surface. “But if I’m so dangerous why’d you bring me along? Why not tell the president I’m a distraction?”
“Like I said before, I’m also really selfish and not ready to let go of you. Plus, I don’t trust anyone else to keep you safe.” The back of his skull met the headrest, and he released her hand. “See . . . I told you—I’m fucking confused.”
She reached for his glasses and removed them, needing to see his eyes. “What do you want me to do? What do you need from me to make it all okay?”
A smile skirted his lips. “Stop being so funny. So amazing. And sexy.” His throat moved with a hard swallow. “You know, stop being so you.”