Page 15 of Liam James
But one moment I was standing there, shaking from the inside out, and the next his arms were around me, strong and warm, pulling me against him like he could hold the whole world together if he had to.
And God help me, I let him.
Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was carrying this all alone.
His mouth found mine slowly,nothing rushed, nothing desperate. Just the kind of kiss that made my chest ache because it was soft when I expected everything to hurt.
“Jenny,” he murmured against my lips, like my name meant something.
The back of my legs hit the bed, and then I was lying there with him above me, his weight careful, his eyes locked on mine like he was giving me every chance to stop this.
I didn’t.
Because when his hands slid up my sides, when his mouth trailed along my jaw, when he kissed the hollow of my throat like I was something precious—
I didn’t want to stop.
He undressed me slowly,like every second mattered. Like I mattered. His mouth brushed across my collarbone, my ribs, the curve of my hip, and every touch was reverent, as if this wasn’t just about heat but something heavier threading between us.
When I finally pulled his shirt off, my hands shook. Not from fear. From everything else.
“Jenny,” he whispered again, like he was holding on to the sound of it.
And then there was nothing between us but skin and the kind of quiet that feels like a promise.
He moved inside me slow,so slow it stole my breath. Like he wanted to memorize this, every heartbeat, every shiver, every broken sound caught in my throat.
I clung to him, to the steady rhythm of his body against mine, to the way his forehead pressed to mine like he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
And for Liam… it wasn’t just about need.
I felt it in the way he kissed me between breaths, the way his hands held me like I was something he wasn’t ready to lose.
I didn’t know what it meant for me yet, or I didn’t want to admit to anything.
But for him…. I didn’t know what it meant.
12
Jenny
The first thing I noticed when I woke was the silence.
No cars outside. No footsteps from the room next door. Just the steady thump of my own heartbeat as sunlight crept through the thin motel curtains.
The second thing I noticed was that I wasn’t alone.
Liam sat in the chair by the window again, same as before, boots on now, his shirt stretched tight across his shoulders. His eyes were on the parking lot like he hadn’t closed them all night.
I sat up slowly, clutching the blanket around me. Everything about last night flooded back at once—the way he held me as if I were fragile, the way his mouth said my name like it was more than just a word.
The way he never rushed. Like he wasn’t going anywhere.
And now… now I didn’t know what to do with any of it.
He turned then, eyes locking on mine. Something flickered there—soft, steady, complicated.
“Morning,” he said quietly.
