He held the glass to her mouth and watched her sip.
She could feel the fire burning her throat, warming her stomach.
“I love to watch you drink Irish whiskey,” he breathed, “the way your lips curl around the amber liquid, the way you lick the rim of the glass.”
It was not the alcohol that make her relax; it was the hungry look on his face and the tone of his voice.
He turned the glass and placed his lips exactly where her lips had been, and took a sip. Then he put the glass down and pushed it aside, and she pulled Liam in, rubbing his neck with her right hand. Gently, she turned his face toward her, kissing her way leisurely toward his lips, smelling the faint aroma of his spicy aftershave. When she reached his mouth, she tenderly kissed the corners of his lips.
That was when his control broke, as she had known it would.
Cupping her cheek with one large, warm palm, he reached behind her to lose the ponytail that held her hair in check. The honey strands fell around her shoulders, as he ran his fingers through them, savoring the softness, smelling the lingering perfume of her lavender shampoo.
“I have dreams about your hair. You used to wear it down so much more. Now, it’s always up.” Liam’s voice sounded gruff. “Every time I’ve seen you, Miss Prim and Resentful Nurse Amanda, this is what I’ve wanted to do.” Grasping her hair at the nape of her neck, he tilted her head back.
He claimed her, sucking gently on her lower lip.
In answer she nibbled his upper lip, running her tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like Liam, familiar, warm, generous, kind … the way she remembered him tasting, with a tantalizing edge of red wine and almonds.
He continued to ply her with kisses, driving into her mouth over and over with his tongue. Leaving one hand tangled in her hair, he moved the other to the sash of her ratty old robe. With a skilled flick of his wrist, he loosened the knot, opening it, then released her, and stared.
“I’ve never had any pretty nightgowns,” she explained. “I mean, what’s the point if no one ever sees you?”
Then she realized … Liam was transfixed by her body beneath the tissue-thin material of her shirt. Transfixed and fascinated.
Slowly she leaned back and put her hands against the cool wood of the desk.
His gaze followed her every movement. “Oh, darlin’, what you’re wearing will do fine.”
He pushed her robe from her shoulders, letting it pool at her wrists where they rested behind her.
She shivered.
He grasped her thighs and moved them apart enough to accommodate his hips. Leaning forward with exquisite slowness, he pulled her shirt from first one shoulder then the other, planting kisses as he went.
He stared at her lips, tender from so much kissing, at her tousled hair, falling down her shoulder, covering one breast. His hands smoothed along the side of her shirt, chafing her straining nipples.
She whimpered with need.
He pulled her upper body forward, releasing the robe from her wrists, then sliding her shirt over her head.
He paused again, viewing her breasts as if every new revelation left him breathless. “You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.”
Amanda smiled, basking in his praise. Feeling bold, she moved his hands down to the waistband of her boxers, while simultaneously thrusting her hips up off the desk.
He whisked the shorts and her robe from beneath her bottom.
She was naked. Fully naked.
And his eyes looked wide and star-struck.
As she lowered herself, and her warmth contacted the coolness of the desk, she gasped and clenched her thighs.
He sighed as if she had fulfilled his every fantasy. “Now, now, don’t be making me finish right here and now.” He enveloped her in a warm hug that quickly became a trail of kisses.
Amanda sighed as his mouth closed around her nipple, hungrily suckling on it. He cupped her other breast with a warm hand, lightly flicking the tip of her nipple before moving over to suckle it as well.
His other hand dipped into the glass of whiskey, and Amanda gasped with pleasure as he wet her nipples and proceeded to thoroughly lick the whiskey off. When he had sucked the warm liquid off of both her breasts, he placed her hands around his neck. His hands travelled behind her to rub down her spine. They cupped her buttocks.
Amanda pushed him away and crossed her legs. “You know, Mr. Gallagher, it’s not really fair that I’m naked and you’ve still got your pants on.” Her voice was husky. Not quite steady. “Get comfortable. Stay awhile.”
Liam stared at her. At her full lips, her pert and creamy breasts, the blond hair between her legs barely visible. Then like a man with his pants on fire, he shed his jeans.
He wore no underwear.
And while she had seen her share of naked men — she was, after all, a nurse — she’d never seen one with quite that physique in quite that state of readiness.
Picking up the glass, she drank the whiskey.
It burned.
She burned.
“I sleep naked,” Liam said. “I pulled my pants on to go get a midnight snack. Didn’t know there would be a boxer competition later.”
She smiled. She nodded. She put the glass on the desk. With her eyes fixed firmly on his face, she uncrossed her legs — just uncrossed them, didn’t spread them — and motioned him forward.
Liam gently pressed his warm palms against her inner thighs and opened her wider.
“Liam, I’m cold.” Amanda’s nervousness was getting the best of her. Her voice had a bit of tremble in it.
“You need someone to keep you warm.” Liam pressed his palm against the light thatch of hair between her legs.
Amanda jumped with the electricity of his touch, clasping her thighs tightly around his hips.
This time when Liam pressed her legs apart, he knelt in front of her.
He was going to keep her warm with his tongue.
He planted slow, hot kisses along her thighs. Murmuring appreciatively, he licked her outer lips. When he sucked on her, Amanda writhed. When he pushed his tongue inside of her, she shivered. When he breathed warm puffs of air onto her clitoris, she leaned her head back and moaned, long and low and pleasured.
She wasn’t done yet — although she was close — when he leaned back on his heels.
“Hmmm…” he said.
“What?” She was breathing hard. “What’s the matter?”
“Not a thing, darlin’, I was just wondering how I could get better access to your pussy. Do you know how many ways there are for a man and woman to have sex?”
She shook her head.
“Leave it to me. I’ll show you.”
“Tonight?” Her voice squeaked.
He laughed warmly. “No rush, my darlin’. We’ve got our whole lives.”
“We do?” He sounded so confident.
Nodding his head, he said, “Indeed, we do.”
“So you think” — she pulled in a long, tremulous breath — “that tomorrow we’ll save Sophia and vanquish the Sculptor?”
“For the chance to make love to you every night, I could win a battle against all the Others and take down Osgood's building with my own bare hands.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
Gently he reached up to touch her cheek. “I can see Sophia, running barefoot through a vineyard in Italy, the sun on her cheeks, her dark hair streaming out behind her, while you watch her and laugh for joy. Yes, we’re going to save Sophia. Never doubt that for a minute. We will succeed.”
He sounded so sure of himself that she believed him. Her last doubts fell away. And when he seated himself on the sturdy wooden desk chair and patted the arms, she put first one foot, then the other, up as he instructed. “Lean back,” he whispered.
Slowly she lowered herself until her spine pressed against the cool wood.
She was so vulnerable.
And yet she trusted him. She believed in him.
He took his time, tasting her d
eeply and more deeply. He lingered, sucked, kissed.
She put her hands over her head, clutched the edge of the desk, stretched and moaned. She kneaded the wooden arms of the chair with her toes. She was ready. So ready. She moved her hips in rhythm, pressing her lips against his mouth and tongue.
“Liam, please. Please.” Amanda wasn’t above pleading for release. Stars began to explode behind her eyes.
Liam slid a finger into her slickness, pressing upward to find her g-spot, lightly grazing her clit with his thumb.
Amanda climaxed once. Twice. She cried out as he slid his finger in and out, using his thumb all the while, extending her pleasure.
Now Liam kissed his way slowly up her body, stopping to gently graze her hip with his teeth.
She jumped slightly, her need igniting again.
“Liam, I want you inside of me.” Immediately, Amanda was embarrassed. Where did that come from? But it was true. She wanted to feel him filling her, she wanted to bring him pleasure.
Liam grinned wolfishly against her skin. “As you wish, darlin’.”
Leaning down, he fished a condom out of his jeans pocket. He tore the foil and rolled the condom onto his cock. Supporting her head and back, he helped her sit up on the edge of the desk, and readjusted her shaky legs farther toward the ends of the chair handles.
She started too withdraw. She felt too … exposed.
But he knew. Somehow he knew, for he wrapped one of his strong arms around Amanda’s shoulders, pressed his palm against her shoulder blades, and brought her breasts forward and up into his mouth.
“That’s … so good,” she whispered. Stupid thing to say. But she meant it.
He massaged her back, suckled warmly, pressed inside her.
She grew damper, more slick.
Her slickness seemed to increase as he pressed inward, her knees compulsively grasped his hips, and the pressure inside grew intense, almost painful.
He lifted his head. “A little more.” He moved in such a leisurely manner, as if he didn’t care. Yet his skin flushed with heat and his eyes burned. “Let me in a little farther.”
She couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want to stop him.
Months ago she had dreamed about this and longed for him. Weeks ago she had dreamed about this and hated herself. Now the dream was reality … and it was better than any fantasy her mind could have concocted.
He reached his furthest point, his cock completely sheathed by her wet, warm pussy.
She gasped.
He paused, his chest heaving as if he’d run a great distance. “I’ve dreamed of this. It feels even better than I ever imagined.”
Amanda smiled. So she wasn’t the only one with a fantasy.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lifted her hips from the desk, rotating herself away from and toward him, circling around his penis. She was rewarded by a hiss from Liam as he tried to maintain control.
“How does that feel?” she asked.
Liam hardly recognized this brazen woman, her golden hair cascading around her flushed breasts. She was a goddess, sent to torture him with pleasure.
Sliding his hands down her back, he cupped her buttocks in his palms and lifted her off the desk completely.
Amanda wrapped her legs around him, holding on as he carried her to the wall. He leaned her against the old-fashioned flowered wallpaper. Burying his face in her hair, he thrust into her.
Her inner muscles tightened around his dick.
His breathing became ragged, almost painful in its intensity.
They moved together as if they knew this dance, yet for him, everything was new, different, fierce and devastating in its power. With Amanda in his arms, he was strong, confident … with Amanda in his arms, he was fearless, courageous, noble. With Amanda in his arms, he was the man he was born to be.
Climax drove him faster and faster.
He couldn’t hold out much longer.
But he would not leave her unsatisfied.
Reaching down between their bodies, he lightly flicked her clit.
She spasmed, cried out, gave him her all.
He braced his feet. His thigh muscles clenched. Every nerve came alive, and he came inside of her, shuddering as her muscles gripped him, extending his orgasm, feeding hers until they both forgot everything but here and now, until they were each irrevocably and forever part of each other.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AMANDA AWOKE, turning to Liam’s side of the bed only to find an empty, cool space. She hadn’t heard him leave, hadn’t felt the movement of the mattress.
Last night, they had moved from the wall back to the desk and then to the bed. Finally they ended in the shower where he rubbed lemon verbena soap all … over … her. After he helped her towel dry, he had tenderly dressed her once again in her boxers and t-shirt, covered her with a fleece blanket, and held her while she slept.
For the first time in two months, she had slept, without dreams, without nightmares. She felt refreshed. A few nights of that kind of sleep could really put her back on the right track.
But today was all about business: the business of rescuing Sophia.
Slowly, Amanda got out of bed. Sure, she was a little sore, but other than that, she felt great, renewed.
Now … where had Liam got to?
Although, truth to tell, she was secretly relieved to not have to discuss last night’s amazing tryst. What did you say to a man when you’d been that … unrestrained … with him? Gee, thanks, that was great, we’ll have to do it again sometime?
No. This was just easier.
She donned her private nursing uniform: khaki pants, a crisp, blue, button-down shirt, and her sensible, soft leather loafers. She tied her hair up into her usual prim bun and smoothed lotion onto her hands and face, then checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wouldn’t be winning any beauty awards today, but her under-eye circles had faded a bit and her shoulders had relaxed since last night’s dinner.
“Okay, Amanda, you’re going to get your sister back today. Be strong. Focus!” In recent months, Amanda had acquired the embarrassing habit of giving herself pep talks aloud. It seemed to help her more than simply saying it in her head, and she figured today of all days, she could use the extra encouragement … even if it was only from herself.
She was not like the homeless lady on the street.
Or perhaps she was, and the homeless lady was wiser than Amanda realized.
Gathering her nurse’s bag of prescriptions and basic medical supplies, Amanda headed out into the corridor and down the stairs. It was early yet, only seven-thirty according to the mahogany grandfather clock in the entryway, but she could hear voices coming from the library. She entered, barely making a noise on the Aubusson rugs.
Liam and Irving sat close to the fire, deep in their velvety blue armchairs, having tea and coffee with ginger scones. The two men in front of the enormous, Medieval-style fireplace were deep in conversation and didn’t notice her entrance.
McKenna stood in the corner (did the man ever sleep?) and nodded slightly at Amanda.
Only when Amanda placed her nursing bag on the floor did Irving and Liam look up.
“Good morning, my dear,” Irving said congenially.
“Morning, darlin’,” Liam added with a warm and wicked grin.
Amanda could feel a blush creeping up her neck, but she remembered her pep talk. Focus!
“Good morning, all,” she said, using her most professional nursing voice. “Irving, I trust you slept well.”
If Irving noted his prim nurse’s heightened color, he gave no indication except to say, “You don’t seem nearly as sad this morning. But of course, today you’re going to free your sister.”
“Yes. Today Sophia will be freed.” Saying the words made Amanda believe they could do it, and that made her feel lighter, more confident.
“Good. Mr. Gallagher and I were discussing the details of your final plan. I’ve had McKenna gather up my extra wheelchair, as well
as one of my finest convalescent outfits.” Irving gestured at the sideboard where dark sweatpants and a dark green sweater were stacked, with a folded wheelchair leaning against it. “So, if you’re ready, my dear, we’ll begin.”
“Begin?” Amanda asked.
Liam looked very serious. “It will take me a while to change into Irving’s form. His body is very different from mine.”
“Old. Feeble,” Irving said. “Crippled.”
“I have to change my bones,” Liam said gently. “It’s … tricky.”
“Oh. Right. Well, I guess there’s no time to lose.” Amanda moved to unfold the extra wheelchair.
Liam stood up and approached Irving. “Thank you for doing this, sir. I promise you won’t feel a thing.”
Irving was alert and bright-eyed. “Anything for Miss Reed.”
Amanda's eyes filled. She had been betraying Irving every step of the way, and yet he forgave her, encouraged her. He was so good to her.
Liam held his strong hands out, and Irving placed his deeply veined, shaking ones into them.
McKenna stepped forward.
He and Amanda watched with fascination as Liam began to transform.
Liam’s shoulders slumped. His stature shrank until he had reached Irving’s height. His skin became paper-thin, darkening to Irving’s skin tone, stretching over brittle bones. Amanda noted that Liam’s eye color changed quickly, but the change from his natural, thick, black hair to Irving’s wispy, white hair took longer. Amanda didn’t know how long it took — a minute, maybe more — but now Liam looked precisely like the older man.
Irving looked Liam over. “I can see why I no longer enjoy looking in a mirror,” he said, drily.
Amanda was amazed. If she didn’t know it was Liam, she would have no idea.
Then he spoke and she recognized the gruff and gravelly voice he used to hide his Irish lilt. He always used that same fake voice. She shuddered to think what voice he would use to imitate a woman.
“Amanda, I’m going to need a bit of help here. I’m not the man I used to be.” Liam and Irving laughed softly at his little joke.
Amanda jumped. She’d been so enthralled with the transformation, she hadn’t thought that Liam would now be as helpless as Irving.
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