Page 44 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

"Nora broke her NDA," he says with a cool detachment that sets my teeth on edge. "It's as simple as that. It's the law. She signed a contract."

My hands ball into fists, my nails digging crescents into my palms. How can he stand there, so calm and rational while someone's life is being torn to shreds?

"Simple?" I echo, my voice rising in disbelief. "There's nothing simple about this! Nora has kids, Liam. This is going to destroy their family, all because Derek can't handle a bruise to his ego!"

His jaw tightens at my words, but his face remains an infuriating mask of indifference.

Doesn't he get it? Doesn't he see that there are real people behind these cases, not just names on a legal document?

My heart races, blood roaring in my ears as I wait for him to say something, anything, that proves he's human. But he just watches me, silent, his eyes like chips of ice.

"Great," I bite out, sarcasm dripping from each word. "Glad to know where your priorities lie."

"Priorities?" Liam's voice slices through the tense air, sharp and sudden. "You think I don't understand? My parents'marriage fell apart because of cheating. I know better than most what it does to a family."

The accusation in his tone hits me like a slap. I recoil, my voice a venomous whisper, as I say, "Hypocrite."

With a swift motion, Liam stands up. His chair rolls back with an ominous thud against the wall. He's a towering presence, the lines of his body rigid with barely restrained anger—or is it something else?

I take an involuntary step backward, but there's nowhere to go. My retreat is halted by the solid bookshelf behind me, its contents—a collection of antique legal tomes and old novels—barely registering as my back presses against them.

I'm acutely aware of the cityscape to my right, the twinkling lights a distant memory compared to the darkness brewing between us.

My breath catches, and for a moment, all I can focus on is the rise and fall of Liam's chest and the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. There's no denying the jolt of heat that courses through me at the sight, even now, even here where anger and desire tangle into an impossible knot.

It's wrong. It's so damn wrong, but that doesn't quell the flame.

Liam advances, a predator closing in on its prey. He's mere inches from me now, leaning forward, effectively trapping me. I can feel the heat radiating from his body as he leans down, his grip firm on my chin, forcing me to meet his stormy eyes.

I want to keep fighting him, to tell him how much of a monster he is…

…but the dumbest words possible slip out.

"Am I being bad again?" My question tumbles out in a soft voice, laced with confusion and an undeniable undercurrent of arousal. He shudders, a barely perceptible tremor that tells me he's affected, too.

"Shiloh," he breathes out, his voice rough like gravel. His hand slides up my side and cups my breast through the thin fabric of my shirt. The pressure is insistent, possessive. "You infuriate me. Your smile, your attitude... your damned morals." His thumb brushes over my nipple through my shirt and bralette, and I can't suppress the gasp that escapes my lips.

"And the way you never wear a damn proper bra," he continues, his voice dropping lower, "I see those perfect nipples every day, Shiloh. Every time you lean over a file or reach for a cup of coffee, and it drives me insane." His fingers tighten, twist, sending a jolt straight to my core. "I've fantasized about how they tasted since the night we…"

He cuts off, leaving the sentence hanging heavy between us. But we both know what he's talking about. We both remember the taste, the touch, and the forbidden heat of that one reckless night.

"Can't stop thinking about it, can you? Me either. I thought you regretted it," I say, the words catching slightly as his hand continues its maddening exploration. My back is pressed against cold wood, the hard spines of books digging into me through my blouse, but all I can focus on is him—his touch, his scent, his proximity. “Figured you thought it was a mistake.”

Liam's laugh is dark, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates against me. "I don't make mistakes, Shiloh." His voice is a growl now, sending a shiver of desire down my spine despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside me

Before I can respond, he leans in, and I feel the heat of his breath against the sensitive skin of my neck. He kisses me there, softly at first, then with a growing urgency that has me tilting my head to give him better access. The stubble on his jaw grazes my skin, and I bite back a moan.

His mouth finds my earlobe, and he nibbles it gently, causing my knees to go weak. One of his hands is still on my breast,kneading through the fabric, while the other slides down my leg, his fingers tracing the line of my skirt until they find the hem. He begins to pull it up slowly, bunching the material in his strong grip.

"Take off your panties for me, Shiloh," he murmurs against my ear, his voice a command laced with an edge that makes it clear this isn't just about desire—it's about possession, about claiming something he believes is his.

My heart races, and for a moment, I'm frozen by the intensity of the moment—the danger, the thrill, the sheer insanity of it all. I know I shouldn’t… anyone could come in; the door is unlocked—

I can't believe I'm doing this, but my body betrays my mind's protests. My fingers work quickly, sliding the thin fabric of my panties down over my hips.

The cool air of the room kisses my exposed skin as the panties pool around my ankles. I bend to step out of them, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way that's both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Good girl," Liam murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches down, his hand brushing mine as he takes the delicate garment from me, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm keeping these," he says.

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