Liam's List (10 page)

I always knew I could trust my life with
three people, and Shelby was one of them.

In the past month, he and I had become
especially close, sharing private details of our lives as we tried
to cope with the stress of the ongoing war, a war without any clear
demarcations of a battlefield.

We talked about home and the women we loved.
Shelby told me about his wife and how he felt guilty for leaving
her behind and pursuing a military life.

I told him about Vivian, how I also felt the
same, and how much it weighed on me.

I told him how I imagined my future with Viv,
our lives together.

I told him that someday, I’d hoped to make
her my wife.

In the cool desert nights, when the pain of
missing our loved ones slid across us like an eclipse blotting the
moon dark, we reminded ourselves why we had chosen this life.

Shelby and I were a lot alike in this
regard.

We had joined the army because we sought a
place that would challenge us and mold us into leaders. A place
that valued service as a cornerstone for leadership.

And we had risen through the ranks fairly
quickly. We were both young, new officers—I was a second
lieutenant, a platoon leader, and Shelby was a platoon sergeant.
The relationship between a platoon leader and a platoon sergeant
could make or break a unit, but we always made it work seamlessly
for the sake of our battalion. Or, as Julian had often joked, we
made our “marriage” work for the sake of our “kids” (our
soldiers).

Jim Shelby was my friend, a steady and
trustworthy soldier, a great leader, and a good man. I looked to
him for guidance and support. We relied on each other to get
through the stress we encountered. We trusted each other. He wasn’t
supposed to die.

A large lump rose in my throat and I
swallowed hard around it.

“
And Merrick?”

Julian’s lips were drawn straight across his
face. At long last, he took a sharp intake of breath and said,
“Merrick was hurt really badly. He’ll live, but he’ll probably be
in a wheelchair for life.”

Though I fought it, I couldn’t control the
tears that slid down my face.

Shelby was gone.

Merrick was alive, but he’d never walk
again.

Something inside me crumpled up and died that
day, and I lost a part of myself that I knew I would never get
back.

Chapter Ten

Vivian

My pulse raced like a bird’s and my heart
pounded so hard it was knocking my ribcage. I felt giddy from
happiness, and my thoughts kept skipping from excitement to anxiety
and back again.

Then I saw him.

Everything in the airport faded to the
periphery except for Liam’s face.

His ruggedly handsome face. I drank in every
detail—his skin even more bronzed by the desert sun, those warm
hazel eyes that always held a smile for me.

And though his sharp features appeared
slightly gaunt and dark stubble covered his jaw and throat, he was
still achingly handsome. And he was here. He was home.

“
Liam!” I waved, bouncing
on the balls of my feet. I thought I might dissolve from sheer joy
at the sight of him.

Time stopped, along with my heart, when he
met my gaze.

We stared at each other for a long moment,
motionless in a sea of bodies.

Then I sprinted across the floor, charging up
to him.

I was about to launch myself into his arms
when I noticed his slightly uneven gait.

My gaze inadvertently strayed to his
knee.

Julian had told me about his knee injury, but
I was so consumed by happiness that for a split second it had
slipped my mind.

I slowed to a halt, but Liam rushed forward
and pulled me to him, bringing my body flush to his. And then his
lips were on mine and I went soft in his arms, releasing a sigh of
pleasure.

A low groan of need rumbled in his throat as
he drew me tight against his chest, deepening the kiss, slipping
his tongue inside me, opening me, tasting me as we moved our mouths
and hips in a steady rhythm.

When we finally pulled apart, he stepped back
to take his fill of me. “Hey, sexy.”

I looked down at my short, flowy dress and
tattered Converse. Not exactly my idea of sexy, but I knew Liam
loved me in short dresses and Converse high-tops.

When I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, the
deep intensity in his stare gave my heartbeat a pause. “Does it
still hurt a lot?” I asked nervously, gesturing to his knee.

“
Nah.” He shook his head
and caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Let’s get my
bag and get out of here.”

Shortly after we left the baggage claim area,
Liam told me he wanted to take the stairs down to the parking
lot.

“
But your knee—” I started
to protest

“
The stairs,” he said
firmly.

As we descended a flight of stairs, my heart
danced in my chest and it was all I could do not to smile at the
sheer wonder of having him next to me.

Right before the exit, Liam dropped his bag
to the ground and steered me into a narrowed nook until we were
concealed in the longest, deepest shadows.

“
I need to touch you,” he
rasped in my ear, the stubble on his face rough against my skin.
“Now.”

Within a breath, my hands were pinned over my
head and I was caged between the wall and the hardness of his
body.

Our eyes locked briefly before he crushed his
lips to mine fiercely, ravenously, not tempered with any
restraint.

I moaned, reveling in his hunger, his
urgency.

It had been so long.

The same need raged through me.

I needed him. Needed his touch.

Strong fingers tangled in my hair as he
cradled the back of my neck, the angle opening my mouth to him. I
heard him growl, felt his tongue sweeping over mine, hot,
desperate, insistent.

I met his kiss with the same eager urgency,
nipping on his lower lip, sucking at his tongue, fighting to
dominate the kiss.

It seemed we couldn’t get close enough,
couldn’t kiss deeply enough.

His other hand moved, gripping my hip,
kneading my ass as he pressed the hard ridge of his erection into
the V of my thighs.

My nipples contracted to tight peaks as I
ground myself into his iron-hardness, the thin fabric of my dress
chafing against my swollen clit.

Without breaking the kiss, his hands roved
greedily over my body, smoothing over my ribcage, my hips, my
thighs, the strokes as frantic as his kiss.

Desperation clawed at my insides. I needed to
touch him.

Needed to feel him.

Skin on skin.

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I tugged
it free of his waistband and slid my hands beneath, running my
palms over the smooth, muscled contours of his torso.

As my hand slid downward, cupping the thick
bulge tenting his pants, his fingers began working the buttons down
the front of my dress.

Humid air clung to my skin as the material
loosened, exposing my throbbing breasts.

He gazed at them longingly for a moment
before he lowered his head, licking one of the taut peaks, then
sucking it into his mouth. Having first one, then moving to the
other, his heavy stubble chafing against my areolas, creating
another layer of sensation.

A sharp, pleasurable burn.

My head fell back and my arms came to the
sides, my palms pressing into the rough wall behind me as I arced
myself forward, demanding more from him.

He gave me what I wanted, pulling my nipple
deeper into his hot mouth, sucking it, tonguing it, devouring
it.

Moaning, I tunneled my nails through his
hair, scraping his scalp as he nipped the soft flesh at the
underside of my breast, marking me.

A sharp cry tore from my throat. I could feel
my clit swelling, my sex heating, growing slick with moisture. Now
his other arm snaked around my waist and both hands palmed my ass,
jerking me close as I ground myself against his raging
erection.

The metal zipper of his pants dug deep into
my clit, the sharp sensation driving me wild, making me crazed with
desire.

My neck arched and my lips parted as I
struggled for breath.

Suddenly, he stopped. Lifting his mouth from
my breast, he held my gaze and traced the line of my lips with his
middle finger.

I watched his throat work as I sucked his
finger into my mouth.

He watched my face as he slid his hand
downward to cup the heat between my thighs. His long finger, still
wet from my mouth, began stroking the moist folds of my sex,
rubbing across the sheer material of my thong, the thin fabric
stretching and dipping as his finger tunneled into my slit, parting
the wet, swollen flesh beneath.

“
Liam.” I breathed his
name as the thong was roughly pushed aside and a callused hand
cupped my pussy.

He continued holding my gaze, tantalizing me
with his heated stare as he slid two fingers inside me, pushing
deep until the heel of his palm was pressed up against my clit.

“
So wet.” His voice was
dark and thrilling as his fingers sank slow and deep into my core.
“So tight.”

I could feel my juices flowing, soaking his
fingers as he rocked his hand back and forth, his fingers pumping
into my wetness, the heel of his palm circling my throbbing
clit.

Gasping with pleasure, I rolled my hips,
moving with each thrust of his fingers, biting down on his
shoulder, sinking my teeth into hard cords of muscle, my need for
him sharp and vicious.

“
Viv,” he gritted out, his
hand grappling as he undid his pants. “Ride me.” He flexed his hips
and I felt it the moment his cock sprang free.

I lowered my gaze, eyeing the proud, thick
shaft jutting from a nest of dark, lustrous hair.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out
a condom, and within seconds, he was fully sheathed. Then he
returned, the broad head of his cock replacing his fingers, sliding
between my labia and rubbing against my engorged clit.

He watched my face, watched me pant as he
teased me, the tip of his cock grazing along my entrance. “Viv,” he
urged again, keeping his voice low, keeping his eyes fixed on me as
he hiked up my legs. “Ride me. Let me feel you come around my
cock.”

The powerful, lean flank of his thighs
supported my weight as I wrapped my legs around his waist like a
second skin.

Without breaking eye contact, I straightened
my spine and lowered myself onto the heated crest of his
erection.

My tender flesh ached and stretched as his
cock sliced inside me, filling me in ways I’d wanted desperately
for months.

At last fully seated, I remained still for a
moment, panting against the curve of his neck as my inner muscles
clenched and pulsed around the buried girth of his cock, hard and
thick as forged steel.

As I began moving, driving myself onto his
shaft, he bent his head and closed his mouth around my nipple.
Violently sucking at my tit, he worked the hardened nub between his
incredible lips as I took him to the root and back, over and over
again.

“
Mmm.” His groans were
muffled against my breasts as he suckled my areolas and tongued my
nipples. “I missed these sweet tits.”

My breast quivered around his mouth, and my
lower abdomen throbbed with a deep, sweet ache, so fully engorged
with him.

All Liam. I felt him everywhere.

His rough hands guiding my hips, his mouth
consuming my aching nipples, his fingers grasping and digging into
my flesh as I rode him, feeling his cock plunging, penetrating,
working its way deep inside me.

Then I felt his muscles clenching, heard the
deep, hoarse sounds coming from his throat as he pushed me roughly
against the concrete wall, driving into me as I rode him
mercilessly.

We’d never had this.

This primal, desperate craving that tore
through us. Consumed us.

I was riding his cock, taking him wild and
without apology, and he was pushing and thrusting, jerking me
upright as he drove into me like a man on the verge of
insanity.

I was unable to stop. He was unable to stop
battering me with desperate motions.

And I was losing my mind with the pounding
strokes filling my body.

We took each other to the brink and I bit
back a scream as I came, my nails scoring his muscled back as my
body shook and convulsed around him.

Pulse after pulse, I continued to come. I
felt my inner muscles flutter around his cock as he surged inside
me one last time. His face twisted into a tortured mask of agonized
pleasure as he tensed beneath me, the climax taking him fast and
hard.

Catching his breath, he rested his forehead
against mine for a long moment before leaving to dispose of the
condom.

Panting and shaking, I stood in the shadows,
my eyes closed and my head against the wall, trying to pull my
shattered senses into some semblance of order.

Chapter Eleven

Vivian

Liam hardly spoke on the drive back from the
airport. Now we were finally home and he stood at the doorway as I
walked through the front door.

Atticus, the sole member of my “welcome home
committee,” was already waiting there. He danced up to my ankles,
quivering with excitement, greeting me with wild, uninhibited
joy.

“
Hey, buddy,” I cooed, but
something behind me had caught his attention. I looked over my
shoulder, smiling as Atticus went completely ballistic.

He skittered and streaked around in tight
circles before launching himself into Liam’s arms.