Page 89 of The Life She Had

He’d have liked that. He’d have liked that very much. Yet I was not quite certain it was the right move. I’d refused to take that particular position with him. That was for Aaron, my way of appeasing him, even when I might have preferred being beaten into submission.

I knew I might need to do that for Liam. But I was going to try to avoid it. Keep that one sliver of control.

As I traced my tongue up his chest, he laid his hands on my shoulders, subtly pushing down. At first, I pretended not to notice, but then his grip firmed, and I had to respond. So I looked up with a teasing smile and a coquettish “Soon” that was meant to placate him. Instead, his lips tightened in annoyance. I resumed my ministrations, and he seemed to forget the deflection as he relaxed and groaned his pleasure.

I continued the kisses to his lips, and he grabbed me then, kissing me hard enough that a thrill of satisfaction rushed through me, the certainty that this problem was not insurmountable, that I could keep my den until I was ready to properly defend it from him.

He’d shown me the way tonight, with this stunt of his. Blackmail. I just needed to prepare my offensive before I launched it.

As we kissed, his hands rose to my throat, encircling it. His touch was gentle, thumbs stroking, and I allowed it, even if I knew the gesture wasn’t tender. When his grip tightened, I forced myself to stay relaxed. Like getting me on my knees, this was something he wanted. To wrap his hands around my neck and, ever-so-gently, squeeze until I couldn’t breathe.

He’d managed it once, in the middle of sex, and later, he’d had to admit that, as much as he’d enjoyed it, that brief moment of pleasure wasn’t worth getting kneed in the stomach.

I let his grip tighten until it impeded breathing, and then I slid my hands up, disengaging his as gently as I could. His lips tightened, the kiss pausing. I opened my eyes to see his annoyance flare brighter.

He gripped my throat again, thumbs digging in. Again, I stopped him without breaking the kiss. A growl under his breath that told me he was not happy. Not happy at all. I looked up into his eyes, and my gut sank.

This wasn’t going to work. The price would be too high.

I was still willing to give a little ground until I found my footing. I lowered my hands and let Liam keep his around my neck, but it was too late. The illusion had broken. He knew that I was in control, that I would “let” him have this. What fun was that?

I might not have been able to give him what he wanted, but I knew other tricks, and I employed them, and within minutes, he’d forgotten his disappointment, and he was lowering me to the ground, kissing me, fingers yanking my shirt hard enough to rip the fabric.

Then we were on the wet earth, and he was stretched atop me and—

He stopped. He broke the kiss and lifted his head, one brow raised. I didn’t know what the problem was until he slid one hand between us, and I felt something cold against my bare stomach.

Liam pulled the gun from my waistband.

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