Page 27 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “Seriously. Although I lack the supplies to reenact them now, so we’ll have to hold off on that front.”

She started to ask what he meant by “supplies,” but her brain flatlined when she reached the leather and silver belt looping around his waist. He held up his hands before she could reach for the hem of his shirt.

“Let’s each take turns to get our fill.”

A joke died on her lips. He wanted to prolong this as much as she did. He’d been serious about seeing her as a prize.

He whipped his T-shirt free from his chest. There was no real surprise here. Liam did post the odd shirtless selfie. His arms contained most of his tattoos, leaving his chest and back bare. The beginnings of a bruise stretched up his side.

“Rugby?” She gestured toward the red and purple mottled mess. He’d somehow managed to squeeze in a game during this hectic time.

Liam tilted his head to regard it. “Ah, yeah. It is a full-contact sport.”

She laughed, her happiness sparkling up inside her like champagne bubbles. “You know what else is a full-contact sport?”

“Are you asking me to stall? Because we both know the answer.”

“I’m not stalling.”

Maybe she had been, but why? How Liam gazed at her made her feel that if she didn’t hurry up, he would help her along.

She crawled over to him, dancing her fingertips across his forearm tattoo—a realistic black-and-gray portrait of his father, judging by the resemblance and his Virginia State Trooper uniform.

Sensing this was not the time to talk about dead relatives, she brought her hand down to another tattoo, an outline of a city skyline.

“San Francisco?”

He turned his arm over. “Yeah. I lived there for five years and miss it a lot. You don’t mind the tattoos?”

She traced her thumb along the edge of his crossed knives. “I mean, if we’re talking face tattoos, that’s a hard pass. But I like most others. Chris has a portrait of me and Daphne on his arm, so I’d be a hypocrite to hate them.”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I’m not saying I want you to get my name tattooed across your ass cheeks. Although I assume the placement would be an homage to your favorite part of me?”

He patted his ass. “Well, damn, because I already put the deposit down. ”

They both laughed, and he pulled her closer. She sighed against him. Being with him was easy. Which meant for once, her anxious mind had nothing to say.

He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. “We can admit you’re stalling for real, now, Aubs. Can I reassure you, I find you the most beautiful, compelling woman in the galaxy?”

She brushed her hand across the dark hair on his forearm as she released herself from his grip. “Well, if we’re talking galaxies, alright, then.”

She lifted her sweater over her head. She forced herself to hold his gaze as he took her in.

His eyes were glued to her breasts, which cascaded out of her brand-new pink lacy bra.

She was grateful his eyes went there, and not the top of her C-section scar, which peeked out of her leggings, along with her muffin top.

“You’re beautiful, Aubs. So much so, I’m going to cheat and make you go again.”

She blushed, lowered her head, and tugged the leggings down from her hips onto her thighs. They got stuck there, and she had to sit on the bench at the foot of his bed. Laughing, he came to stand in front of her and gathered up the fabric as he tugged it off her legs.

He tossed them across the room. “Although I’ve got to admit, the effort to get them off was entertaining, like ripping apart the pretty wrapping paper to see what’s inside.”

She hefted herself up off the bench and half-crawled onto the bed. Liam let out a groan. She glanced back and found him rubbing his hands down his face, eyes glued on her ass.

“Holy fucking hell, Aubrey. You’re gonna kill me with that thong.”

A bubblegum-pink scrap of fabric covered the essentials. When she’d tried it on, she’d looked at herself in the mirror, not seeing the cellulite or stretch marks, but a beautiful woman .

“Are you waiting for permission to touch? Because you can.”

In a flash, he was on the bed next to her. She fell against him as both of his hands lowered to her backside for a squeeze. Pressed up against him, Aubrey was nearly undone by his closeness.

“I don’t mean to objectify you,” he said, “but I’ve been dreaming about getting to touch you like this for a while.”

Their dirty dreams were on the verge of coming true. It’d been a long time since Aubrey had felt desire anywhere close to this. “I bought this lingerie for you, so of course I want you to touch.”

He let out a noise from deep in his throat. She stroked his broad back.

“Your turn.” She lay on the bed, feeling beautiful beneath his gaze.

“Where did you get that scar?”

His jeans fell open, and he paused, the tease that he was. She tore her eyes away from him and regarded the scar. She’d once been self-conscious, but in front of Liam, a man who made her feel desired, she felt no shame.

She ran her hand over her stomach. “It’s my reminder of Daphne’s birth. Emergency C-section.”

“Ah, I asked because I have a scar, too.” He came onto his knees. He lowered his jeans, revealing a scar from his thigh to his knee. “Motorcycle accident at nineteen.”

“How does a scar make you even more perfect? That’s so unfair.” She had to laugh because if she looked at his perfection one second longer, kneeling there with his jeans around his knees, she would go into cardiac arrest.

Not in a figurative sense.

He laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you. You don’t disappoint me, though. If anything, you’re more luscious in real life than in my dreams. ”

Luscious, what a spectacular word.

He stood up to tug off his jeans but was back to her side on the bed a moment later. He caught her shoulder, and she rolled over and into his arms.

He laid a hand on her cheek. “Before we get into this, we need to have the inevitable birth control conversation.”

Once they’d worked out she had an IUD, but they’d still use condoms anyway, Liam rolled over and turned out the light. The streetlights and the flash of the neon sign for the sports bar across the street illuminated the room.

As their mouths came together, Aubrey relaxed against Liam.

Her arms slipped around his shoulders; her leg hitched up to rest on his hip.

Kissing him was so easy. When she brought her hand to his cock, he groaned and gently guided it away.

His shadowed expression was somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“Give a man the chance to breathe.” He kissed her temple and moved down to her lips.

Her face was tender from the scrape of his beard and kisses, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

His long fingers toyed with the clasp holding her bra in place. She let him fuss with it for a moment until her impatience got the better of her, and she undid the bra herself.

He tugged the straps off her shoulders and dragged them down her arms. For a split second, she was self-conscious again. Her breasts did that thing where they spread off to the sides instead of staying upright and perky on her chest.

Before that thought could linger, Liam leaned forward and kissed the center of her chest. “You’re beautiful, Aubs.”

She let out a laugh. “Am I broadcasting my insecurities, or are you just being nice?”

“You have no poker face.” He rested his head against her chest, and the intimacy of him lying so close to her had her inching from lust toward something like love.

A feeling that deepened when he spoke. He raised his head so they were nose to nose.

“For me, attraction can start with the physical, but it has to go deeper than that if it lasts. And for me and you, Aubs? It goes as deep as the bottom of the ocean.”