“Is now where we share our sad tales and get weepy?” She poured on the fake innocent act. There was no way she was going tell Mr. Richy-Rich about h
er Dumpster-diving past. He was out of her life as soon as she broke the love spell and she didn’t share secrets with soon-to-be strangers. She lost every bit of coquette and let the true street urchin she was pour out. “But I already know your story. Your people turn into actual wolves. My people? Well, my people don’t exist. So there you go. Stories told. We can move on now.”
That bitchy little speech would have shut most people up. Liam wasn’t most people. He just winked one of those Caribbean-blue eyes at her, maKing her insides go fizzy.
Reaching out, he twisted one of her brown curls around his finger. “Are you this big of a pain in the ass all the time?”
“Yes.” Even though she sat beside him, she shouldn’t be able to feel that slight touch all the way down to her toes but she did. It zipped along every nerve ending in her body until she felt supercharged. “Now aren’t you glad you’re going to be stuck with me for life?”
“Actually... ” He lifted the curl’s red tip to his nose and inhaled. “I am.”
A warm wave of desire crashed through her, turning her this way and that as she tried to make sense of it all. Lust, she knew. The sensations threatening to drown her right now? That was something different. In an effort to anchor herself, she grabbed ahold of the one thing that had always been her constant: stone-cold bitchiness. “Did you try to break the force field with your head in addition to your shoulder?”
“No.” He let go of her hair, flexing his fingers as if he felt whatever was swirling in the air around them. “Despite your best efforts, I still like you. I’d like you even if you hadn’t touched the Caladbolg sword.”
Rolling her eyes, she gave him plenty of attitude. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re tough, you’re smart and you don’t give up. I didn’t walk into this place without doing my research. I know how much it took to become the black market fence in Dublin. You succeeded where many before you had failed and you’ve managed to stay on top. If you ever used that brain for legal activities, there’s nothing in the world that could stop you.”
There was nothing she could say to that. No one besides Granny had ever talked to her like that—not that there’d been anyone around before Granny to say that.
Maybe the love spell really was legit and it worked both ways. That would explain the extra something in the way Liam was looking at her that made her heart hiccup and her thighs quiver. It wasn’t just him using a little sweet talk to get into her pants. Enough assholes had tried that for her to be able to spot them from miles away. This was more.
Before her brain could catch up with her body, she took his square jaw between her palms and kissed him like a woman in love.
Chapter Six
With her soft lips on his, all the blood drained from Liam’s brain straight to his cock. Spell or not, the woman was addictive.
The need to feel her, touch her, taste her, nearly overwhelmed him and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her sweet mouth. The move drew him as much as her into a state of blissful torment. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He reached for her, squeezing his arm between the tabletop and her luscious body. There was barely enough room in the cramped space of their overnight prison cell. Side by side with the table only inches from their fronts and the high-backed booth behind them, there really wasn’t the kind of room he wanted for this. He needed to spread her out and feast on her every curve until she trembled in his arms, sated and silly with satisfied lust.
Pushing the base of the heavy table with his foot, he moved it three inches and gave them enough room to maneuver. He clasped her hips tightly and lifted her, ignoring her surprised gasp before setting her down on the table in front of him like a sensual meal he was going to fully enjoy.
It could have been the magic thickening the air, but he couldn’t make himself believe it because when he looked up at her, taking in her desire-hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips, the world changed. It shrank. It enlarged. It became full of possibilities and hope. He hadn’t been looking for forever when he’d walked into Granny’s Pub, but he’d found it anyway. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let it go now.
Her hands went between her legs, pushing the short skirt to the table while inching it higher at the same time, teasing him with an almost view of the Promised Land. “You aren’t going to eat me are you, big bad wolf?” she asked, desire turning her voice husky.
He gave her just the leer she wanted. “Without a doubt.”
Liam encircled each of her wrists and placed her hands behind her. The move pressed her tits hard against her shirt, the pinpoints of her puckered nipples tenting the material. “Keep them here.” He held her hands to the table for a moment, knowing that if she touched him now he wouldn’t be able to take the time to do all the things they both craved.
Mentally cursing the tight fit of his leather pants as his cock grew with each inhale, he brought his hands to her front and lifted the hem of her shirt. Slowly. So slowly it almost broke him. But there would only be one first time and he wanted to make it last, because he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t run when the spell wore off. He had tonight though, and he meant to make the most of it.
She made a sound, a sweet moan that was half surrender and half encouragement. Thanking the fates for every last bit of light from the streetlamps coming in through the large front windows, he returned to his leisurely visual feast as he moved her shirt upward. Freckles circled her tummy button like planets around a sun and he traced their trajectory with the tip of his tongue. She undulated under his sensual assault, begging for more without saying a word.
He pushed the red shirt higher as she shivered under his touch. Inch after inches of mouthwatering brown skin came into view. Aching to touch her and unable to draw out this divine pain anymore, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a white lace bra that did nothing to hide the perfection of her dark nipples and full breasts. He circled the pad of his thumb around her tempting nipple, feeling every bit the proud caveman when it peaked even more.
“Are you trying to kill me?” She groaned out the question as she scooted closer to the edge of the table so that her heavy tits where level with his mouth.
“Maybe just myself.” Every part of him strained toward her, even as he kept himself as still as possible. He needed a minute to calm the fuck down or everything would be over almost as soon as it began.
“We can’t have that.” She reached up her back and unclasped her bra.
“Fuck me.” The words came out with all the reverence he felt, even if his word choice was influenced by the lack of blood north of his waist.
“Such a flatterer.” She laughed and twisted to the left to reach the side clasp of her skirt.
That’s when he saw it. An inch wide, the scar traveled across her left side, narrowing as it curled around her ribs and stopping at a point just under her breast. He traced his finger across it. “What happened?”