Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) (27 page)

“Jeez, Liam, are you taking a cold shower? Burr… It’s freezing in here.”

“Sorry…” he mumbled, sending a mental command at the faucet, cranking the lever to the left. The water instantly heated and the shower door slid closed behind him. He sensed her taking a step closer, her eyes slowing traveling the width of his back, down his waist, over his buttocks and past his parted legs.

The steam infused her vanilla-jasmine scent, filling the shower, and a tortured groan chortled in his throat. She reached around his shoulder, brushing against his back as she unhooked the loofah from the showerhead. A burst of coconut-lime permeated the air as she said, “Sorry, you’re gonna smell like a margarita.” And then she began scrubbing his back. “But I guess it’s better than a whore.” At first he tensed in response to her tart words, to her unexpected touch, but after a few minutes, his body began to relax, responding in kind to her soothing massage, all except for a very persistent part of him.

When she reached the side of his neck, she began to scrub vigorously, and he chuckled softly. “I think you got it. Do I have any skin left?”

“You’re funny,” she quipped. “Perhaps I’ll have to leave my own mark on your neck so women will know to back off. You seem to attract them like flies.”

He wasn’t proud that it felt good knowing she was the jealous one for a change. “It wouldn’t last very long,” he teased. “I told you, I heal quickly.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to reapply—frequently and liberally.”

His laughter turned into a hiss of air and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth when she forwent the sponge, dropping it at his feet, and put her soapy hands on his blazing hot skin.

“What’s the matter?” she teased. “Not so funny now, is it?”

Around his side and over his peck, she soaped his chest, sliding her hand down his stomach. He grabbed her wrist, halting her descent when her sudsy fingers slipped lower. “No, it isn’t,” he answered, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t do this—I mean… We shouldn’t…” Frustrated, he let his head fall forward to rest on the clammy tile. Damn, this was impossible—

Olivia pressed a kiss to the center of his back. “Liam, I can’t feel your energy. And I can only assume it’s because you’re injured, which means we have right now, and who knows when it will ever happen again, ‘cause I’m not about to club you with a two-by-four every time I want to touch you like this.”

“Olivia,” he spoke to the tile, his sandpaper-rough voice sounding foreign even in his own ears. “No one has touched me—ever. I’m not sure… I don’t know…how I’m going to react.”

“Well, I’m guessing favorably,” she teased, wiggling her hand loose from his grasp to grab his wrist and place his palm back against the wall. Her lips pressed against his back again, kissing a trail up to his shoulders as her hand dipped lower. They both gasped at the same time, but for completely different reasons.

***

Olivia was in awe of the male standing before her. Perfectly and generously formed in every way, she felt dwarfed standing behind him. His hands remained slightly raised over his head, palms pressed against the tile as they bore a good portion of his weight. His fingertips dug into the grout between the white porcelain squares, crumbling the cement to dust at his feet, and she couldn’t help but stare in wonder at this powerful warrior.

This is mine,
she thought to herself, no longer able to deny the vow of her heart and mind. It thrilled her—he thrilled her. His strong, agonized response to her touch excited and emboldened her. She’d just entered uncharted territory. Not that she’d been a prude, but after meeting Liam three years ago at the naïve age of eighteen, she’d honestly just never wanted to touch another man like this, or be touched by one—not even by Mitch, and that had been a constant stumbling block in their relationship. A very sore spot as time went on and their intimacy did not progress.

It wasn’t until she’d resigned herself to the fact that Liam wasn’t coming back and she couldn’t continue to live her life a miserable maiden that she’d agreed to marry Mitch. She’d known once they married, she could no longer deny him, but until then, she’d clung firmly to her adamant desire to wait until she was married.

Taking a step closer, Olivia pressed against his back, molding her curves into his muscled contours. When she kissed him beneath his shoulder blade, she could feel the rapid heaves of his short, panting breaths. She ached to touch the scarred V crossing his shoulder blades. The few times she’d tried to touched them before, he’d never let her, saying the scars were too sensitive. But given the purposeful nature of her touch, she impulsively dipped her fingertips into the scarred indentions.

Instantly, his already hard body turned to flesh-covered steel, her name left his lips in a hoarse bark of ecstasy. His head tipped back, his giant body shuddering in waves. It surprised and delighted her to discover her touch could evoke such a powerful response. As he caught his breath, she dipped beneath his outstretched arm and slithered around his side. Pinning herself between the tile wall and this wall of muscle, the sheer size of him amazed her. She’d never felt more fragile and yet so safe.

Demurely, she kept her eyes cast to his parted feet, her heart pounding inside her chest at the thought of raising them—not that she could resist, or even wanted to. She’d dreamt of what he’d look like, standing before her like this. But as she slowly raised her eyes, Olivia realized that no amount of dreaming could have prepared her for this stunning reality.

He was absolutely divine…

By the time her eyes slowly dragged up his body to meet his, Liam’s bold sapphire gaze was locked on her with such a possessive intensity that she instinctively took a step back, bumping into the wall behind her. Liam’s chest rose and fell with each panting breath.

“How you doin’?” she asked tentatively, watching as he grappled for control that seemed to be quickly slipping from his grasp. After a moment, he nodded once in confirmation, seemingly unable to speak.

“You keeping it held back?”

Briskly, he nodded again.

“You think you’ll hurt me?” He must, why else would he be clutching the tile while looking like he wanted to devour her?

He shook his head.

Olivia reached up and wound her arms around his neck. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed the hard clench of his jaw and pressed her chest against his. She could feel the rapid pounding of his heart through her breasts and smiled. Arching a brow, she asked saucily, “Well then, what are you waiting for?”

With a tortured growl, he pushed away from the wall and caught Olivia up in his arms. His mouth descended on hers in a brutal kiss that claimed her very breath and stole all rational thoughts from her mind. His primal aggression surprised her as he stepped forward, backing her against the wall. This wasn’t the Liam she knew, the soft, tentative, gentle angel who’d always been so careful with his touch. No, this was the touch of a warrior—a lover too long denied his heart’s desire. And she loved it! Loved his strength, loved his passion, loved that for these few stolen hours, he could touch her without fear of hurting her.

With one arm tucked beneath her, he easily held her up. His other hand roved and explored all the places she’d only dreamed of him touching. When his fingers slipped down past her waist, she cried out in pleasure, breaking their kiss to drag ragged gasps of air into her lungs.

“I love you, Olivia,” he whispered, claiming the side of her neck in an open-mouth kiss that marked her throat as she’d threatened to do to him.

She wanted to respond, to tell him that she loved him, too, but the only sound she could get past her lips was a broken moan. His ceaseless ministrations swiftly carried her to a shattering release that had her crying out his name as her blunt nails scored his rock hard shoulders.

Already, she noticed the ever-so-slight heating of his touch, and a brief moment of desperation knotted in the pit of her stomach. Panicked, she kissed him with everything she had, not ready for this to end and fearing at the rate he was healing, it wouldn’t be long before his touch was forbidden once again.

Liam must have felt it, too, because his own kiss became frenzied and desperate. Without letting her go, the shower turned off, and forgoing the towel, he carried her into the bedroom. She didn’t know how much time they had, but knew, without a doubt, that Liam was going to make every second count.

Chapter Twenty-Three

A knot fisted in Balen’s gut as he looked down to meet those pleading hazel eyes. “I promise… I’ll be here when you wake up.” Bending down, he placed a lingering kiss on Ashley’s forehead. He longed to taste her full, sweet lips, but wouldn’t let himself think about heading down that road with her—not after witnessing the hell Liam had endured for the last three years. Just thinking about his friend’s suffering gave him the resolve to step away. “Good night, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, turning to walk away before she could stop him.

“Good night, Balen.”

He closed the door softly behind him. Once it latched tight, he let out a deep sigh and sat in one of the flimsy plastic lawn chairs that probably cost a whole five bucks at
Walmart
. He shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable for the night, and wondered if the thing was going to hold him. Folding his hands behind his head, he slid down in the seat, lowering his center of gravity. With eyes closed, he stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

A few hours passed with him sitting there, statue still, outside Ashley’s door when the one next to hers opened and closed quietly. Balen cracked open one eye and glanced up to see Mitch standing beside him. He closed his eye again and remained unmoved, pretending he didn’t know the guy was there. Perhaps the shithead would change his mind and go back inside. It was almost 2 a.m. What was he still doing up?

He could feel Mitch’s eyes on him, sizing him up. When it became glaringly obvious the guy wasn’t going anywhere, Balen sighed. “What’s on your mind, Mitch?” His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, when another lawn chair scraped against concrete as it inched closer. All hope was lost when the chair creaked, protesting as he sat down beside him.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

If Mitch expected an answer, he sure as hell wasn’t getting one. But Balen did open an eye and cocked his brow as if to say “Really?”

“I can see it when you look at her. After you came to my house, I thought maybe you were just an over-possessive guardian. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Why are you out here?” Balen asked dryly. He couldn’t lie, so there wasn’t any point in trying.

“Why aren’t you in there with her?” Mitch countered.

Balen sat up and turned, pinning him with a baleful glare. “This may be a foreign concept to you, Mitch, but I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of women.”

“Ouch....” He dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled a deep sigh. “Hey, I apologized to her.”

“As you well should have,” Balen snapped. A few moments of silence passed, and he’d almost believed he was in the clear of having to spend any more time talking to Olivia’s fiancé, when the persistent bastard started flapping his gums again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?” he answered with exaggerated patience.

“Why do they fall in love with you so easily?”

Balen knew Mitch meant ‘you’ as plural. What he really wanted to know was why Olivia had fallen in love with Liam. “You really want the answer to that question, Mitch? Because I can guarantee you aren’t going to want to hear what I have to say.”

“Tell me,” he persisted. “Please…”

“It’s because we love completely and unconditionally. Our only desire is for our ward’s safety and happiness. We were created warriors, so it’s ingrained in every fiber of our being to serve and protect—even unto death.
You
are incapable of such a love. Your selfishness and pride prevent you from loving a woman as God created them to be loved.
You
do not love Olivia as she deserves to be loved, as Liam loves her. And
you
are not worthy of her love in return.”

“Don’t you sit here and talk to me as if Liam is some saint!” Mitch hissed. “He took her from
me
! On our wedding day! Minutes before we were to declare that love you claim to be so nonexistent, before God and all our witnesses!”

“Listen to yourself!” Balen growled. “He took her from
me…
” Balen taunted. “I hate to break it to you, but she was never
yours
. Liam loved her enough to step aside and he
let
you have her, because he thought that’s what she wanted. I told him it was a mistake—”

“I love her!” Mitch yelled defiantly.

“You love yourself!” Balen sneered with disgust.

“So this is how it’s going to be?—you and me? You know, for an angel, you’re not a very nice one.”

“It’s not my job to be nice. And it’s not my job to be your friend. Hell, it isn’t even my job to keep you alive. Ashley is my only concern. You, Mitch, are a very distant afterthought.” Balen looked straight ahead again and stretched back out in the chair, cuing Mitch that this conversation was over. He folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

The chair scraped against the concrete as Mitch got up and turned right instead of left. “What do you think you’re doing?” Balen demanded.

“I need to talk to Ashley,” Mitch grumbled sullenly.

“No, you most certainly do not. See, there you go again with the ‘I need.’ Believe it or not, Mitch, it’s not all about you. It’s late, Ashley’s asleep, and you’re not bothering her anymore tonight. Go to sleep, Mitch. You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Marching past Balen, he grumbled, “Self-righteous son of a—”

“What was that?” he interrupted. “Did you say something to me?”

“No,” Mitch bit out, slamming the door closed behind him.

Balen laced his fingers behind his head again, tipped back in his chair, and closed his eyes. “I didn’t think so...”