Okaaay. What does that mean?
There were so many things Charlee loved about this man, but those same things irritated the hell out of her. Like for instance, he wasn’t a big talker, often letting his actions speak louder than words. However, when she needed him to say something, anything, he took his time and often didn’t share his thoughts without her prying them out of him.
“All of what?” she asked as he stood and started clearing the table. “Are you saying that you agree that you’ve been treating me like an alien?”
“Yes.”
Frustration drummed through her. “And you want to call a truce?”
Instead of loading the dishwasher, he started washing the dishes. “Yes.”
“And you want us to be friends? Like hanging out sometimes like we used to?” she continued carefully, mentally, and emotionally preparing herself for however he answered. He continued washing and drying dishes, seeming to marinate on each question.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“And you miss me?”
“Dammit, Charlee!” He threw the dish towel on the counter, suds flying everywhere. “Yes! What else do you want me to say? Yes! I agree with all of that.”
Charlee stood within an arm’s reach of him, her mouth hanging open at his outburst, unsure of what to say. The words out of his mouth were everything she wanted to hear, but the tension radiating off him and the tortured look on his face was saying something completely different.
“You…your presence. Heck, everything about you turns me on and confuses the hell out of me. You drive me…crazy! Yeah, that’s it. You drive me crazy, all right?” He angrily dried his hands. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that’s how you make me feel. Like…like I’m losing my damn mind! I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s making me nuts. I miss the hell out of you, okay? Now stop with all of the questions!”
Breathing hard, he white-knuckled gripped the edge of the counter and hung his head as if it had taken every bit of energy he had to admit that to her.
A slow smile spread across Charlee’s mouth. Surely, he knew telling her to stop doing something was like telling her to go for it. Most people would be sympathetic to the apparent battle going on inside of him. She wasn’t most people. Happiness bubbled inside of her at the thought that she was making him crazy.
Served him right. The way she’d been missing him had been just as much torture, and she was glad he’d been experiencing it, too. Heck, she was so elated, a happy dance on top of the counter in only her underwear seemed in order. But she wouldn’t. At least not today.
“Okay, now that we got that out in the open, let’s talk.”
He whipped his head around so fast it was a wonder it didn’t roll off of his neck.
“Are you kidding me? We just talked. I just talked.”
Charlee burst out laughing. She laughed even harder when he rolled his eyes and poured himself another cup of coffee. If it was left up to Liam, he’d probably never talk.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do the talking and you’ll listen, something you’re really good at anyway. But there’s just one thing.”
Just as he brought the mug up to his lips, Charlee took it from him and set it on the counter next to the stove. She tugged on the front of his shirt, and Liam lifted a questioning brow but allowed her to pull him closer. His dark, piercing eyes met hers.
They wanted the same thing.
Her body hummed with need and her nipples tightened at the burning desire illuminating in his eyes. When his gaze volleyed from her eyes to her mouth, Charlee couldn’t resist any longer. She raised up on tiptoes and gently pressed her lips to his, anxious to see if that spark that they once shared was still there.
A jolt of electricity raced over her skin and excitement pulsed through her veins as her senses leaped to life.
Yep, that spark is still there.
She might’ve started the kiss, but Liam quickly took over. One of his strong arms encircled her waist and he pulled her tight against his body while his other hand gripped the back of her neck. His tongue swept into her mouth with a soul-reaching urgency that had Charlee gripping the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life.
She wasn’t surprised by her own eager response. Each time she’d seen him, she’d wanted to kiss him, taste him, be reminded of how perfect his mouth felt against hers. She wanted to be locked in his arms again and finally, finally she was right where she wanted to be if only for a minute.
When the kiss ended, a whoosh of air burst from her lungs and Charlee steadied herself, trying to exude some level of coolness. She didn’t want him to see how much the kiss affected her.
The left corner of his juicy lips quirked up. “I wondered if you’d taste the same,” he said huskily.
“Well, did I?” she asked, her voice shakier than she would’ve preferred.
His gaze lowered to her mouth and settled there for a while before reaching her eyes again. “I think I need another sample before I can form an official answer.”
Copyright © May 2019 Sharon C. Cooper