Page 32 of Wraith
Liam growled, released her and took her arms. He restrained them above her head but deepened the kiss. He controlled every bit of the carnal assault on her body, molding her mouth in the image he wanted and touching every inch of her. She could barely breathe, for all she wanted, all she desperately craved in the moment was to have his rock-hard body imprinted on hers.
“We should stop.” Liam’s voice was husky. “We really should stop.”
But even as he said those words, he didn’t release her. He kissed her again and punctuated it by nipping at her lips.
“Because you’re only saving me.” Amelia arched forward, trying to get his mouth on hers again. “Because you’re only doing what my father would have wanted. Because this wouldn’t be fair to Lili.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Hummingbird.”
“Then why stop?”
“This can’t be what you really want,” Liam replied. “Us making love like this. And—”
“And what?” Amelia pushed.
“Do you really want me because you feel something or because we’re in danger?”
Those questions caused her to wrench her arms from his. She tried pushing by him, but Liam merely grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back in front of him. He trapped her against the wall with his body. “If you want me, Hummingbird, there’s no shame in it. After all, you want what you want. But I have to make sure I don’t take advantage of you.”
“I’m a grown woman, Liam.” But she didn’t meet his eyes. “But I understand. I’m not Lili.”
Amelia did manage to escape then. She hurried back up the stairs to her heaters and the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. What the hell had she been thinking?
She knew the answer. Amelia had been thinking there was a fire inside her, raging out of control and only Liam could put it out. In their moment, as he devoured her in the best ways, all thoughts of Lili and her jealousy of Mrs. Perfect were gone. There was only a woman needing to be touched by a man. Then reality set in and Amelia had to remember she wasn’t the right one for Liam. She wasn’t the one Liam wanted.
“Amelia.”
She didn’t move. In fact, Amelia closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.
“Come on, Hummingbird. I know you can hear me.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“You have no right to call me Hummingbird, in this voice—like you—like you…”
His footsteps sounded closer. “Like I what?”
Amelia said nothing else. Suddenly his strong hands were against her shoulder, rolling her to her back. She kept her eyes closed for a brief moment before looking up at him. He was kneeling beside her. “You don’t get to be kind to me now after the rejection.”
“I want to talk about what happened.” Liam sat beside her and drew his knees up. “The first time you make love to someone it shouldn’t be in a cold, drafty old house in the middle of nowhere with killers on your tail. I didn’t stop because of Lili. Her and I have been friends, colleagues for more years than I’ve known anyone else. You deserve more than—than—.” He motioned around. “This.”
“I’m glad you’re thinking about what I deserve, Liam,” Amelia said. “But what I wanted…I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again. Can we just get to work finding this painting so we can go home?”
Liam sighed and rose to his full height. “Okay.” He left her in the room by herself and Amelia’s eyes stung with unshed tears.
Later,as the wind howled through and around the house, Wraith couldn’t sleep. He’d spent the entire time thinking back to the kiss he’d shared with Amelia. It was hot, so much so, it took every ounce of control in him not to tear her clothes from her body. He’d wanted to slide into her against the wall with one of her legs lifted to his hips to open her up. He’d wanted to fall to his knees and worship every, beautiful, dark inch of her flesh with his tongue.
But Amelia was a woman to be cherished. She wasn’t the type for a rough tryst against some crumbling old wall and nothing else. She deserved a man who was into designer suits and luxurious things.
The floorboard creaked in the dark and Wraith was immediately on alert. He knew the difference between boards shifting because of wind and boards crying because someone was moving their weight around on it. He remained still in the dark, one hand under his pillow with the fingers wrapped around the handle of his Glock. But no intruder came forward. Amelia stood by the door, wrapped in a sheet. He released the gun and sat up. Their eyes met. Without saying a word, he lifted one end of his sheet and she moved gracefully across the space and climbed under. She settled with her back against his chest and her head on the pillow beside him.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Amelia whispered in the dark.
“It’s okay, Hummingbird. Go back to sleep.”
“It’s cold in here.”
