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Authors: Shannon Richard

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BOOK: Unsung
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“Oh, so tit for tat?”

“Yup.”

If he kept grinning at her like that he could have whatever the hell he wanted. “Well, then what are you waiting for?”

She arched her back and he slid both of his hands underneath her, making quick work of the hooks. The second they were undone he pulled her bra from her body.

“Perfect,” he whispered as he lowered his head. His mouth landed on one of her breasts, a hand on the other. The double onslaught was almost more than she could handle: his tongue on one nipple, his thumb and forefinger on the other.

And just like that her hands were in his hair again, her nails raking his scalp. His mouth disappeared from one breast and landed on the other. His now free hand making a move south, traveling down her side before it made its way between their bodies. And then he was touching her through the thin material of her panties, his thumb finding her clit and making her body arch off the bed.

He pushed her panties to the side, his fingers running across her center before he slid two inside of her. She gasped, her head falling back onto the mattress. And she wasn't the only one making noises, either. Liam groaned and as his mouth was still working at her nipple it rumbled through her breast. What with that and the added sensation of his fingers now moving inside of her, Harper couldn't stop her body from bucking or her hands tightening in his hair.

But as good as all of that was, it was
nothing
compared to what he did a moment later. His mouth moved from her breast, his teeth grazing her ribs and his tongue trailing across her skin as he moved down.

Down.

Down.

Down.

And then he was off the bed, his fingers disappearing from inside of her as he knelt on the floor. He touched her knees, gently pushing her legs apart so that he could settle his shoulders between her thighs. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her body right up to the edge of the bed. The second she was in a position to his liking, he pushed her panties to the side and had his mouth on her.

Her body didn't simply arch off the bed when he ran his tongue along her core. She was pretty sure she levitated in the air for a good couple of seconds. She let go of his hair and grabbed on to the quilt next to her, holding on for dear life.

As to the words that came out of her mouth? Well, those were mostly incoherent. She could barely get enough air into her lungs as it was, but when he put his hands underneath her bottom and lifted her up for better access she somehow managed.

“Ohmygodpleasedontstoppleasedontstoppleasedontstop.”

And he didn't stop. The first orgasm was barely finished before he had her going off again. And he stayed with her until the end, bringing her down, with slow licks of his tongue before he pulled back and kissed the inside of her right thigh.

“Yup, magnificent,” he whispered as he looked up at her. He slid his hands up across her legs and to her hips where he wound his fingers in the sides of her panties and pulled them down. The second they were free he stood, kicking off his boots as he reached for his belt.

Harper sat up on her elbows and watched as he pushed his jeans, boxers, and socks off in one swift move. He stood before her entirely naked, and she wanted to use the word
magnificent
on him as well.

She took a few seconds to look him over, to take in the fact that he had toned muscular thighs and the most impressive erection she'd ever seen in her life. He walked over to the nightstand, pulling open the top drawer where he grabbed a condom. He opened it and rolled it down the length of his cock.

She wanted him on her, moving over her. Wanted him inside of her.
Now
. The urgency and need was all-consuming. She shifted back on the bed, scooting across the mattress so that her legs were no longer hanging over the edge.

“You waiting for another invitation?” she asked as she settled into the pillows.

“Maybe.” His mouth quirked to the side.

God he's sexy.
“Written or verbal?”

“Verbal will do just fine.”

She bent her knees, her feet going flat on the bed before she pulled her thighs apart. He took a deep breath, his eyes dilating as he focused on the apex of her thighs. “Come. Here.”

The bed dipped just slightly as he put first one knee down on the mattress, then the other, kneeling between her legs. His hands skimmed her sides before he placed them flat on the bed. He leaned down, opening his mouth over one of her breasts before trailing kisses up her chest, over her neck, and finally covering her mouth with his as he settled between her thighs.

One of his palms moved under her butt, lifting her as he thrust inside of her in one powerful move. Her mouth fell away from his and she found herself looking up into his green-gold gaze.

He was all that she saw. All that she felt. All that she wanted.

She reached up and ran her fingers across his strong jaw, her thumb moving against his stubble, a stubble that had rasped across most of her body. She was going to have whisker burn
everywhere.

Worth it. So
totally
worth it.

He kissed her again as he began to move, pulling his hips back before he thrust back into her. The hair on his chest brushed her now overly sensitized nipples. She slid her hands to his back, her palms gliding over his skin as they traveled down to his ass. She hadn't gotten a rearview yet, so a hands-on exploration was necessary.

And it was glorious.

He groaned into her mouth as her nails dug into his skin, urging him on harder. He complied with gusto and she moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She had no idea how long they moved like that before she pulled away from his mouth, gasping for air.

Liam buried his face in her neck, sucking at her skin before nipping at it with his teeth. The sting sent pleasure all the way down to her toes, hitting every spot in between. Or maybe that was just him hitting every spot in between.

Didn't matter. It was working. Everything he was doing was working.

“I don't think I'm going to last much longer,” he whispered, his breath washing out over her skin.

“I'm almost there,” she panted. Almost being the operative word, she was right on the edge. Just a few more thrusts and she…

She would…

Be…

Right…

“Oh, ohh, ohhh.” She tightened around him, her body pulsing as the orgasm ripped through her.

“Thank God,” Liam groaned into her neck as he found his own release.

They stayed that way for just a few moments, their sweaty bodies tangled together. Harper closed her eyes and reveled in the weight of Liam pushing her down into the mattress. She moved her hands up and down his back, memorizing him with her fingertips and cataloging everything. His hand at her hip, his lips on her throat, his breath on her skin.

He pulled his head up and looked down at her, giving her that smile of his again as his hair fell across his forehead. “I'm so glad I bought you that drink.”

A laugh burst forth from her lips as she reached up and brushed his hair back. “So am I.”

“I'll be right back.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Don't go anywhere.” He pulled from her body and got out of bed. She watched him walk to a door on the other side of the room, finally getting a proper look at his
very
fine ass.

Yeah, she wasn't going anywhere…for now.

C
onsciousness hit Harper about two seconds before she opened her eyes, and in that one brief moment all she knew was contentment. But then her eyes did open and reality set in. Well, it set in after she blinked a few times, the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows temporarily blinding her.

As her eyes adjusted she took in the open-beam ceiling—that went on for days—above her, before she turned her head to the side to find a naked man next to her.

Liam was fast asleep, his face buried in the pillow and his dark brown hair rumpled all around his head. One of his arms was wrapped around her stomach, his hand on her hip.

Everything about last night came back to her in an instant.

His hand at the small of her back as he'd leaned in close to her at the bar. His lips at her ear, the sound of his rich southern draw filling her up with a warmth that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol.

She couldn't even blame her actions on drinking because she'd been fully and totally in control of herself when she'd decided to go home with him…well, unless she could count being drunk on lust. And as she remembered the countless out-of-body experiences he'd given her throughout the night, she wasn't quick to discount it, either.

The thing was, she'd spent about seven conscious hours with the man, but it didn't feel like she'd just met him. No, it felt like something much more.

But none of that changed the fact that Harper did not do one-night stands. She didn't even dabble in them, didn't even stick her toe in the water. So to say this was out of character would be an understatement. Yet there she was, waking up next to a guy she'd only just met on the morning that
should've
been her wedding.

Oh. Good. God.

The wedding that would never be to the man who had left her. Brad had been far from her thoughts. She'd been entirely focused on Liam, and why wouldn't she be? He made her laugh, made her come harder than she'd ever come in her entire life…and made her forget everything besides him and her.

She couldn't do this again. Wasn't ready for another man in her life—not that Liam wanted to be a part of her life. Hell, he'd probably be trying to get rid of her the second he opened his eyes. Harper chose not to focus on the fact that the thought of him wanting her gone was worse than anything else.

Nope. She wasn't going to do it. Instead she was going to get out of there. Stat.

Priority number one: getting dressed.

She sat up ever so slowly, gently pulling Liam's hand from her body before she got out of bed. Her clothes were scattered all around the room and she had to stop herself from groaning out loud at the sight before her. She started gathering the garments as fast as she could, cataloging as she went.

Panties: hanging from a knob on the dresser.
Check
.

Shirt: at the foot of the bed.
Check
.

Pants: on top of a chair in the corner.
Check
.

Boots: the right was in the middle of the floor.
Check.
And the left…was…just peeking out from under the side of the bed.
Check
.

Purse: sitting in the entryway of the bedroom and miraculously still zipped up…unlike her pants.
Check
.

Bra…bra…nope, no bra.

Where the hell was it?

Liam shifted in the bed, his arms flexing as he buried his face farther into the pillow. Her bra was just going to have to be a casualty. There was no time to waste.

She headed out of the room in search of a bathroom, being careful to move as quietly as possible across the hardwood floors. Every time a board squeaked her heart flew up into her throat. She made it to the end of the hallway before she found a bathroom and ducked inside, closing the door behind her with an unavoidable—and very audible—snap. But it was nothing to the flush of the toilet a minute later, though there was no avoiding that, either.

She dressed quickly, her ample chest looking downright indecent in her shirt sans bra. But there was nothing for it.

There was also nothing to do about the state of her hair, which was Bed Head 5000 no doubt do to Liam's hands. At least she could do something about the eyeliner and mascara that made her resemble a grunge band groupie.

She turned the faucet on, noises be damned at this point, and stuck her hands underneath the cool water before she took a few mouthfuls. She splashed her face, scrubbing at the space under her eyes. The hand towel next to the sink was clean and she ran the fluffy fabric across her skin, wiping up the drops. There was a stock of tiny bottles of mouthwash in the mirrored cabinet above the sink and she helped herself…might as well at this point.

When she shut the door and caught her reflection in the mirror she had to close her eyes to block out the image of who she found staring back at her. She had no idea who she was in that moment. She was not easily scared…yet there she was…running.

But really, after everything that had happened over the last few months it wasn't all that shocking.

Harper wasn't quick to fall in love. At the age of twenty-six she could count on one finger how many men had gotten that far. Brad had done much more than broken her heart; it wasn't just a crack down the center. It was shattered into a million teeny, tiny pieces. And no, she wasn't being over-dramatic.

He'd decimated her.

He'd shown up in Mirabelle about a year and a half ago, a general contractor who'd been hired by the county to fix the bridges and roads. He'd met Harper and swept her off her feet. She wasn't easily swept. Never had been.

Maybe it was because of her father. Paul Laurence had set the bar very high when it came to a good man, and all of the guys she'd dated over the years had definitely fallen short.

At least until Brad…or so she thought.

So yeah, she was running. She had no other choice and her escape time was counting down fast. She gathered her purse—all the while still avoiding her gaze in the mirror—before she stepped out into the hallway.

She was so intensely focused on getting out of there that she didn't take in the rest of her surroundings, like how the massive stone fireplace in the living room was a thing of glory, or that the cabin was settled on a lake that could be seen sparkling through the windows that made up the entirety of the back wall, nor did it register that the kitchen smelled like freshly brewed coffee.

All Harper saw was the solid wood of the front door, which was why she jumped out of her skin when the voice spoke out behind her.

“Forget this?”

Her purse flew into the air, hitting the floor with a thud. She clutched her chest and spun around. Liam was leaning back against the counter, her bra dangling from his forefinger, swaying just slightly in the air.

Okay, yes it was true that she'd gotten to see his body up close and personal the night before, but there was something to be said about seeing it in the daylight. Actually there was a lot to be said about it. She just couldn't do that much talking as her brain had temporarily short-circuited.

He was wearing nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs and a smile, his washboard abs giving her the strangest urge to do laundry. She looked like death warmed over and he looked…well, glorious.

“Your bra wasn't the only thing that you forgot, either. I don't get a good-bye, Harper?”

“I figured it would be better,” she said as she reached up and attempted to smooth her hair. She had no doubts that she did
not
succeed.

He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, her bra now hanging at his side. “Better for whom?” His mouth quirked to the side, making him look infinitely sexier.

The jerk.

“Look, we don't have to do this whole awkward morning-after thing,” she said, making a gesture between the two of them.

“Perfect.” He nodded his head as he reached up and scratched his beard, the sound of his nails on his scruff reaching her ears from across the room. He used the hand that was still holding her bra and it swayed with the motion, taunting her like a freaking red flag…even though it was navy blue.

“Then I'll just get going.” She took her eyes off of him, so not an easy thing to do, and went to grab her purse on the floor.

“Why?”

“What?” Her head came up and she straightened.

“Why are you leaving?”

“I thought we just established this.”

“No, we established not having the
awkward morning-after thing
. We never established you leaving,” he said, shaking his head.

“Do you plan on making this as uncomfortable as possible?”

“I was thinking about it. But if you head out that door I think you'll make yourself plenty uncomfortable all on your own.”

“Meaning?”

“How were you planning on getting back to the bar?”

Well, that had her coming up short. “I hadn't really thought that out.” She hadn't really thought anything out as was evident by her current predicament.

“It's three miles to the main road, and another five to the Second Hand Guitar. And as you don't know where you are I would imagine it would be difficult to call a cab. Also I don't think you'd get far walking in those shoes of yours before your feet started to kill you.”

“Well, isn't this the perfect setting for a horror movie.”

A laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head. “I was actually going for the perfect setting for a romantic comedy. Boy meets girl, boy takes girl home and gives her multiple orgasms, boy makes girl breakfast the following morning.”

Okay, she was going to ignore the romantic comedy comment. “Look, Liam, last night wasn't something that I've ever done before. I'm not the kind of girl who goes home with men I just met.”

He tilted his head to the side and his grin somehow widened. “See, we have something in common. I don't go home with men I just met, either.”

The corner of her lip twitched despite herself.

“Is this something you do for all of the girls you have one-night stands with?” The question was out of her mouth before she thought better of it, and she inwardly cringed at her words. She was
that
girl. The one-night-stand girl.

His head straightened and he studied her for a second, the humor in his eyes gone. “First of all, I've never made breakfast for any girl that I've brought home. And second, I wouldn't classify you as a one-night stand.”

His words had her coming up short again. She couldn't get her brain to connect with her mouth to say anything.

“Let me cook for you, Harper. Then I'll take you wherever you want to go.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to ask that he just drive her back now. She wasn't sure what it was, the fact that he hadn't called her a one-night stand or the intensity in his gaze, because the word “okay” slipped past her lips. And judging by the look on his face, she wasn't the only one shocked by it.

“Good.” He pushed himself off the counter and crossed the space to her, reaching out to hand her the bra when he was close enough. When she grabbed it he didn't let go. His green-gold eyes focused on hers as his free hand slipped around her waist and he moved in closer. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

He hesitated for just a moment, giving her a second to object…but just like the night before she found herself objectionless. She couldn't think straight around this man, not when he was speaking, or looking at her, or breathing in her general direction. And now he had his hand on her, his mouth just inches from hers.

She gave a small nod before he lowered his head. His lips gently brushed hers and his fingers tightened at her hip, bringing her flush against his body. She couldn't stop herself from sighing in pleasure, and the second her mouth was open he took full advantage, dipping his tongue inside. She wasn't the only one who'd taken a moment to freshen their breath, either, and he tasted so incredibly good.

And just like that her palms were flat on his chest, like they had a mind of their own. Yup, her ability to think straight was obliterated when he was around…but maybe thinking straight was entirely overrated.

*  *  *

Liam James was a heavy sleeper, had been since he was a child. This was why the alarm on his phone was loud and obnoxious and would usually go off for a full five minutes before it would even register in his sleep-hazed brain. But luckily for him he hadn't been dead to the world that morning. Otherwise he would've missed the attempted exit of his violet-eyed, black-haired goddess.

Thank the Lord for small favors, because never seeing Harper again would've been one
massive
mistake.

He'd noticed her the second she'd walked into the Second Hand Guitar, which was saying something as the bar had been packed. But then again it was
always
packed. The place was up there with the Bluebird Café on musicians getting discovered in Nashville, not to mention some already well-known names liked to stop in and do a little impromptu show. So the crowd of people was always thick with musical and nonmusical patrons alike.

Liam had his own soft spot for the bar. Whenever he was in town he practically lived there, writing more of his songs on one of those bar stools than anywhere else. Then there was the fact that he'd been discovered there himself.

Three years ago he'd been singing up on the stage when Hunter Andrews of the country duo Isaac Hunter had pulled out his own guitar and gotten up onstage with Liam. Five songs and two pitchers of beer later, Hunter had invited Liam to open a show the following evening. He'd ended up touring with the duo for the better part of a year, playing in cities across the country. When they'd asked him to open on their most recent tour he'd said yes without hesitation.

BOOK: Unsung
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