Page 26 of Liam James
I nodded, throat tight.
As he led us toward the SUV, I realized something with absolute clarity: Poppy had just lost her father, but without Liam, we would’ve lost our lives.
And I wasn’t sure how to thank him for that.
20
Jenny
The ride back toward Fraiser Mountain was quiet except for the hum of the tires on the pavement. Poppy fell asleep almost as soon as we left the flashing lights behind, her little body curled under a blanket in the back seat.
Liam drove like he had nowhere to be, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between us. He didn’t say much, but I could feel the tension slowly bleeding out of him with every mile we put behind us.
When the warm lights of a hotel finally appeared off the highway, he pulled in without asking.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” he said softly. “She needs rest. You need rest.”
I didn’t argue.
He got us connecting rooms again, one for me and Poppy, one for him. Poppy was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I tucked the blankets around her, and then I straightened up.
Then Liam looked at me.
Something in his eyes had changed—darker now, but not with anger. With want. With everything we hadn’t said since this started.
“Jenny…” he began, but I didn’t let him finish.
I crossed the space between us and kissed him.
There was nothing slow about it this time.
The fear, the adrenaline, the what-ifs—we poured it all into each other as if we might not get another chance. His hands framed my face, my back hit the door, and the world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms, and the way he whispered my name like it meant something.
When we stumbled into his room, it was frantic, urgent. Clothes hit the floor, his lips never leaving mine as if stopping would break the spell.
He lifted me easily, carrying me to the bed like I weighed nothing, like he couldn’t get close enough fast enough.
This wasn’t careful or tentative.
This was two people holding on like the world might end in the morning.
And neither of us wanted to let go.
The fear, the danger, the heartbreak of the night bled out of me in Liam’s arms.
His mouth claimed mine like he’d been holding back for too long, like we both had. It was heat and desperation, the kind of kiss that stole your breath and didn’t give it back.
I couldn’t get close enough.
He laid me back on the bed, his hands sure but reverent as if he needed me as much as I needed him. We kissed like the world might stop turning, like everything outside this room didn’t exist.
Clothes fell away between us.
The first time had been slow, cautious, almost sweet. Tonight, there was nothing sweet about it. Tonight it was raw, consuming. Every kiss, every touch burned like fire. His mouth led a trail down my body, and I cried out with pleasure. I ran myfingers through his hair and pulled him back up as my mouth claimed his again.
“Jenny,” he whispered against my neck, voice rough, “I don’t want to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” I breathed.
