I leaned in, my breath hitching as I whispered into the crook of his neck, my voice a broken thread. "Please, Liam. Just help me forget."
I moved back slowly, my lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from his. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the tremor in his hands where they still gripped my waist. He let out a low, guttural curse—a "f**k it" that sounded like a man finally dropping a weight he’d been carrying for a decade—and then he was kissing me.
It wasn't the cold, surgical hardness I was used to with Jason. There was no demand for performance here, no silent requirement to be the "perfect wife." Liam’s mouth was a storm of heat and suppressed longing. He lifted me effortlessly, my legs locking around his waist as our tongues tangled, and I realized then that he tasted
