Red stiffened, transforming from the teasing, relaxed sex goddess she’d been a minute ago to the hard-as-nails badass he’d first met. “It’s nothing.”
Anger bubbled under the surface, popping against his skin and expanding with each inhale. “I know an enchanted lash’s mark when I see it.”
“Then get your fill.” She turned more, displaying her back and shoulders, revealing the faded scars marring her skin.
“Who?” He needed the name as much as he needed oxygen because that person was going to pay. Dearly.
She shook her head, still keeping her face pointed away from him. “It doesn’t matter.”
Her shoulders shook. Just the tiniest fraction, but that, combined with the dull flatness of her tone, was enough to stab him through the heart as fury and impotence ate away at his gut. “Tell me.”
“I grew up in The Woods neighborhood, not that far from here. It’s dangerous—especially for a little girl left on her own at eleven. I did better than most.” She paused and turned back to face him, her eyes hard and her chin thrust out. “I live
d.”
Liam’s life hadn’t been easy—watching your family transform into wolves and lose any sense of their former humanity wasn’t exactly child-psychologist approved—but he’d had friends, guardians and people in his corner. “What happened to your parents?”
“They trusted someone they shouldn’t.” She grabbed her shirt, holding is close to her chest in a tight grip. “End of story.”
Someday he’d get her to tell him the whole story and help her put the memories to rest. Then, during a full moon, he’d hunt down the responsible parties and devour their still-beating hearts. The silent vow seeped into his bones, becoming as much a part of his future as she was. “You can trust me.”
Red snorted, making even that ridiculous sound sexy. “Why, because of some love spell that neither of has any control over?”
His conscience elbowed him in the ribs; if she ever found out, she’d never forgive him for his lie of omission, but it was too late to go back now. “Because I promise from this day forward to never hurt you. Ever.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale to me.” Her voice remained tough, but her chin trembled.
He tugged her shirt from her hands and dropped it to the table’s smooth surface before pulling her to the edge and bringing his mouth to within millimeters of hers. “So let me prove it to you.”
###
Girls like Red didn’t get happily ever afters, but damn if Liam didn’t have her thinking it just might be possible. The way he kissed wasn’t fair. Strong lips. Talented tongue. Sure fingers. Hint of cocky dominance. He checked off every one of the must-haves on her orgasmic bliss list. But he brought more than the physical. She trusted him. It was that more than anything magical he was doing with his lips that pushed her over the edge. Even if it was only for the night, she was going to believe.
She wrapped her legs around his chest and pulled him closer. “I hope you’re going to take the skirt off me a lot faster than my shirt.”
“I’m not planning to take off this ridiculous excuse for a skirt at all.” His long fingers slid up the outside of her thighs, under her skirt and hooked her panties’ elastic band on both hips.
He yanked hard and the sound of shredding lace sent a shiver down her spine. The tattered remains of her panties fell away, leaving her bare and exposed under the skirt’s minimal length.
“God, this skirt.” He stared at the gingham material with such intensity, Red couldn’t believe it didn’t spontaneously combust.
She inched it up. Liam’s jaw hardened and his grip on her fleshy hips tightened. Another inch. He gulped, his eyes going from light blue, the color of the Caribbean Sea, to blue as dark as the deepest point in the Atlantic. Another inch. Every sinewy muscle in his arms bulged as he fought the same urges building inside her. She pulled the skirt up as far as it would go without showing her bare pussy. It wasn’t nice, but she wasn’t a nice girl.
He growled; honest to God growled.
“You don’t like the pub’s uniforms?” she asked, loosening her legs wrapped around his chest.
Heady anticipation electrified the air. Desire seeped out from her core to her limbs, making her languid and ready for whatever came next.
Rotating his hands from the outside of her hips to her inner thighs, he pushed her legs wide, the move sliding her to the middle of the table. He rose from the bench seat and loomed over her. “I don’t like other people getting to look at you in it.”
He reached behind his head, grabbed the back of his shirt collar and pulled his T-shirt off in that signature male way. Lines of solid muscle and full-color tattoos covered his chest down to his six-pack abs and the V lines above his hips. There wasn’t an ounce of softness in him as he stared down at her, looking every inch the predator.
But he needed to know, no matter how much slick need he inspired, she wasn’t prey. She slipped her fingers into her wet folds and rubbed, relishing the way he went rigid as she pushed herself closer to the edge. “How very territorial.”
He came back to himself with a sexy smirk. “Werewolf, remember? It’s our nature.” He lowered his mouth to her core and blew a hot breath against her fingers. “Now it’s time to stop talking.”
The world went dark the moment he slid his tongue against her wet folds, trailing over her fingers and around her clit. She shut her eyes tight. The sensations were too much, too intense, for more than one sense at a time. His fingers pushed past hers, sliding inside. Before she could adjust to the welcome invasion, he sucked her sensitive nub into his hot mouth and scraped his teeth gently against it. Color exploded in her vision as bright as a glimpse of the sun from the dark side of the moon. The magical force field, the love spell, the missing Caladbolg sword—none of it mattered at the moment. How could it in the face of the pleasure vibrating up her thighs as she arched her back and gave him a better angle to work his own kind of magic? The buzzing grew stronger and she strained toward it, knowing that when it hit her center, she was going to burst into a million pieces, and she couldn’t wait.