Page 21 of Vicious Vines

The door swings open, and there he stands—Liam, in all his infuriating glory. His eyes, dark as a tempestuous sea, scan my face with a cocktail of concern and something dangerous that sets my skin ablaze.

"Let me in, Liam," I demand, shoving past him, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me like an accusation.

"Jesus, Sloane, what happened? Is that glass in your hair?" He shuts the door and follows me into the living room, where shadows play across the navy wool rug.

I whirl on him, the anger and confusion congealing into a hot, tight ball in my chest. "Aldo and Maria," I spit out the names like poison. "They've played us for fools."

Liam's jaw clenches, and the muscle ticks in betrayal. "I know."

His admission stokes the flames of my fury. "You knew? And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Because you were too busy playing house with Aldo! You never would have believed me." His voice is a low growl, and I feel it reverberate through my body.

"Believed you?" I laugh, sharp and bitter. "Why should I? When you parade around town with your arm candy just to torment me?"

"Torment you?" Liam steps closer, his proximity sending a jolt of awareness through me. "Is that what you think, Sloane?"

"Isn't it?" I challenge, refusing to step back, refusing to show weakness.

"Damn it." Liam runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of frustration. "Yes, I wanted to get a rise out of you. But no, I didn’t sleep with her. It was all a show, a stupid game because I—" He cuts himself off, his expression tormented.

"Because you what, Liam?" I press, needing to hear the words, craving the confession.

"Because I want you, Sloane." He closes the gap between us completely, his breath hot against my skin. "Only you."

My breath hitches, and anger mingles with a heady desire that coils low in my belly. The revelation is a siren call, pulling me towards the rocks despite the danger. Liam wants me, and despite the chaos, it’s a truth that resonates somewhere deep within the storm.

"Wanting isn’t having," I manage to say, even as my body betrays me, leaning into his warmth, yearning for the touch I've denied myself for far too long.

Liam's eyes darken with a promise that sends shivers down my spine. "Then take what you want, Sloane. Because it's yours—all of it."

In this moment, amidst the turmoil and the jealousy, I know the battle lines have been redrawn. We're both playing with fire, but it's a blaze I can't resist. Not anymore. I stand in Liam's living room, my heart pounding like a caged bird desperate for escape. Liam's gaze holds mine, fierce and unyielding, as he steps closer, his voice a velvet command that sends ripples of unwanted longing through my veins.

"Leave them, Sloane. Leave the Romanos, leave Aldo. They've betrayed you, and they'll do it again. Be with me," Liam urges, his words slicing through the cacophony of my thoughts.

I can feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me like a forbidden embrace. But the warmth I crave is laced with danger; it promises solace yet threatens to consume me whole. His plea is seductive, an easy way out, but I'm not looking for easy. I'm not looking for a savior.

"Being with you won't solve everything," I snap back, my breath hitching as tears of frustration well, blurring the world into a messy watercolor. "You think you can just ride in on your white horse and save the day? That's not how this works."

He steps forward, his proximity a palpable force. "Who said anything about saving you? I'm talking about standing beside you, fighting with you."

I can almost taste the intensity of his desire, a dark hunger that mirrors my own. But there's more at stake than our entwined lust, more than the vengeance burning in my chest.

"I don't need you to fight my battles, Liam," I assert, even as something deep within me screams to take the lifeline he's offering. "I've been sheltered under Sean's thumb, yes, but I'm no wilting flower. I'm a thorny vine - sharp and dangerous."

His hands reach out, lingering just shy of my skin, as if he knows one touch could unravel me. "I know you’re dangerous. I’m more than willing to bleed for you, if that’s what it takes. Sloane, you're so much more than you've been allowed to be. With me, you'd be free."

"Freedom isn't given, it's taken," I retort, my resolve firm as I step back from him, from the magnetic pull of his presence. "And I'll take mine on my own terms."

Liam's jaw clenches, and I see something flash in his eyes—a maelstrom of emotion, raw and untamed. It's the same storm I carry inside me, the one that whispers of dark desires and even darker needs.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he challenges, the spice of his cologne mingling with the ozone tang of the storm. "Take it. Take everything you want, Sloane. Start with this."

And before I can form a rebuttal, his lips crash against mine, igniting a fire that burns away all thoughts of alliances, betrayals, and white knights. In this moment, it's just us and the tempest, two forces colliding with a passion too powerful to deny.

My back arches against the cool wall as Liam's lips trail a fiery path down my neck, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin just below my earlobe. His hands roam hungrily over my body, kneading my breasts through my silk blouse, the fabric no barrier to the heat of his touch. The tension that had been building between us for weeks has finally snapped, unleashing a torrent of pent-up desire.

I moan his name, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, desperate to hold him closer. Embracing him with my thigh, I feel his erection straining against his trousers, and I know he's as consumed by this insatiable hunger as I am.

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