Under Fire (Elite Force #3)(48)
Author: Catherine Mann

Her hands fell to rest on Liam’s head, holding on to his saturated hair as he knelt between her legs. His unshaven face rasped against the tender flesh of her thighs. He eased his tongue along the tight bundle of nerves, drawing out the last flashes of pleasure until her knees gave way.

He caught her, his hands big and strong, triggering another reverberation through her. She leaned into him as he reclined in the tub, taking her weight as she blanketed his body with hers. A sigh of contentment vibrated inside her. Silently, he toed the shower off, switching to the faucet and closing the drain.

Earlier, coming together had been impulsive. Reactive. Riding the wave of adrenaline from so many close calls. And yes, even fueled by all the talk of being a couple playing out fantasies to spark up their sex life.

Right now, being naked and vulnerable with Liam? Things got complicated. This was about emotions. About unresolved issues between them from six months ago.

She’d deluded herself since leaving the Bahamas that she could avoid these feelings if she avoided the man. Clearly, that wasn’t true.

Her legs pressed against his hips, one leg against his right buttock, where she’d found a green footprint tattoo. He’d told her it was standard for PJs, in honor of the earlier days when helicopters called Jolly Green Giants flew them around. There were so many things left to learn about him, so many things she wanted to know. Sure, she’d heard about his ex-wives and met the members of his team on the job.

But what about his childhood? What had shaped him into the adult he’d become? She knew none of those private details about the man she’d already let have such access to her own life, her body, and maybe her heart.

She sipped beads of water from his chest, kissing her way along his collarbone. “I told you about my mom. Tell me about your family.”

“I don’t have family.”

“Everyone has family, even if they’re not blood related.” She traced along his chest down to his six pack. How could one man be so lean and muscled at the same time? Every ounce of him was poured into sculpted strength—strength she’d enjoyed the hell out of since they closed that door behind Officer Vogel.

“Okay, then, the fire department of Dalton, Texas, is my family.”

“Fire department?”

“I volunteered there when I was seventeen. I couldn’t go into burning buildings, but I could ride with them. I got to play with the Jaws of Life. I ate good meals and had male role models to give me advice.”

“Your father was dead?”

“No, but my mother died of cancer when I was eleven, and after that, honestly, my father didn’t care what I did.” He held up a hand and she linked fingers with him. “No need to make it a sob story. He wasn’t brokenhearted over my mother’s death. He didn’t abuse me. I had a roof over my head. According to all of the different marriage counselors, he was a self-absorbed narcissist. And since my mother died when I was young, I was constantly seeking to re-create the perfect home life for myself through my many failed marriages.” He rattled off the information dispassionately, as if reciting from a textbook. “And yet I kept re-creating the past by getting into relationships doomed from the start.”

“Um, wow. That’s… sad?” Tragic actually. Every woman in his life had left him, even his mother, who couldn’t help what happened to her.

He kicked the faucet off. “Funny how knowing doesn’t help stop the cycle.”

“I think maybe you chose those women because you knew they weren’t a threat to your military calling. Maybe they weren’t a threat to your heart either. I know how much it hurts, losing your mother young.”

His smile went tight. “Are you planning on hanging up a shingle and charging for the therapy too?”

“Not therapy. Just observations.” She feathered her fingers over his eyebrows. “Just caring about you.”

He captured her wrist. “You’ve got to know history shows caring doesn’t usually end well, where I’m concerned.”

Had so few people cared for him after his mother died that he was uncomfortable accepting affection? Had that been what his therapists meant? Liam, the protector, knew how to give and be in charge, but he didn’t know how to receive. And he was right, in that one-sided relationships didn’t stand a chance.

Damn it, she didn’t know what the future held for them. But she couldn’t turn away from Liam now without making sure she gave him something of herself and that he let her. Even if only on a physical level.

Sitting up, she straddled him, running her fingers over his broad chest.

He started to stand. “I’ll grab some towels—”

She shook her head and pressed against his chest. “I’m not ready to get out yet, and neither are you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmmm.” She splayed her fingers along his pecs, fully aware he could hoist her out of the way with little effort.

But she willed him with her eyes to lean back. Give over control to her and let her give something to him.

Slowly, he reclined in the tub again, raising the water again to half full. Moisture clung to the sprinkling of golden hair on his chest. Still astride him, she rubbed against him. His erection pressed between her legs, his thick shaft applying tantalizing pressure as she rocked along the length of him.

They’d showered together, soaping each other thoroughly—so very thoroughly—then filled the tub. The motel might be low budget on style and housekeeping, but it had an unending hot-water tank.

Warmth lapped around them. Her soaked hair clung to her body. Her cheek sealed to his chest with the moisture, his heartbeat steady in her ear. “I can’t believe we finally had sex.”

One hand cupped her bottom, the other skimmed up and down her spine. “It was inevitable, once you showed up in my life again. Don’t you think?”

She tipped her face up to look at him. “You knew I wanted you even when we were in the Bahamas?”

“Yes,” he confirmed simply, without arrogance, just a calm assurance. “The connection was there, undeniable. But you also made it clear then you didn’t want to act on it. I had to respect your wishes even if I didn’t understand.”

“I was scared.”

“And were you right to be afraid?” He stroked her hair away from her face with an impossibly gentle hand. “Because the last thing I want is to frighten you.”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” There was no holding back anymore, not after what they’d shared. She had to tell him what was in her heart. “I’m afraid of what you make me feel. All those feelings are so amazing, but I can’t escape the fear of being hurt, the fear of loss.”