Fighting With Light (The Coldwell Brothers #2)

22. Aelia

22

Aelia

My heart is pounding so hard I swear it’s about to pop out of my chest. That was exhilarating. That was fun. My lips look for every bit of bare skin that I can reach on Liam; adrenaline is running through my veins and I’m high off of it. I bite his ear and his jaw twitches, trying to keep his reaction to me buried. But I want to rip it from him. Reaching for his hand, I bring it to my chest.

“Aelia, I’m driving,” he grits out.

Smiling, I move his hand lower. “I know you can handle the vehicle just fine, Tarzan.”

He watches me out of the corner of his eye, as I drag his hand down my body to my legs. I like the way my heart pumps too hard because there’s still a little tinge of fear. Or how my skin feels all prickly because the adrenaline makes me feel like I can fly. I want to do it again and I think I might if I stick with Liam. He wants to go to Colombia, it scares the crap out of me, but it also excites me. Playing detective is more fun than I thought it would be.

“Tu es dangereuse,” he whispers under his breath.

I pause, wondering what I just heard, and he fists his hand, pulling it away.

“Not now, Aelia,” he grumbles.

Sighing, I sit back down in my seat. But I know if he wasn’t making sure that someone was following us, he would have pulled this car over, and we would already be in the back seat because he feels it, too.

We make the last turn onto the street for the villa, Liam drives through the gates, and pulls the SUV into the garage. He clicks his seatbelt and the only sound in the car is the belt rolling back into place. We sit there for a moment and I’m still ready to jump his bones .

I glance at the clock, it’s already eleven in the evening and he has a competition tomorrow. He needs sleep, not me… unfortunately. I move to open the car door, then I’m hauled back over my seat and onto Liam’s lap. He grabs my jaw with his large hand, sliding his fingers over my pulse, and gives me a knowing look before kissing me. The space is tight, but I manage to move my leg so I’m straddling him with the steering wheel digging into my lower back. His other hand grips my thigh, keeping me in place, and I lean into the kiss as his tongue grazes mine, pumping a fresh wave of need to flood through my body.

He grabs my bottom lip with his teeth and pulls at it. I reach for his mouth to kiss him again, and he pushes me back with his hand wrapped around my throat. Pressing my neck into his hand, he gently squeezes. “When are you going to give me control, princess?”

I bite my lower lip, refusing to give him an answer. He drags his mouth across mine and I nip at his lip, forcing a rough groan from his mouth. Our teeth clash with the hunger that seems to keep building. I don’t think it will be sated until we cross that line we keep dancing behind.

“Take me inside,” I murmur. His hand drops from my neck and he pulls the latch to the door. I push the car door open and his powerful arms hold me as he steps out of the car. With my ankles locked at his back, he holds me with one arm, slamming the car door closed. I nuzzle my nose into his neck and take a deep breath of his ocean scent tinged with sunscreen.

I can feel his heart beating against my body and I don’t think it has anything to do with him carrying me into the house. He turns and walks into the kitchen, flipping the light on, and then leans forward to set me on the counter. His hazel eyes meet mine for a moment and he kisses my cheek before stepping over to the fridge. I watch him grab the container of leftover meat and potatoes that the chef made.

Liam grabs two forks and hands me one, then grabs a chunk of potato and shoves it into his mouth. He holds the container between us while he stands between my legs, and we eat while staring at each other.

This is a little weird for me, I’ll admit...but I like it.

I take another bite and set my fork next to me. Liam takes the last bite and tosses the container and fork into the sink. Not sure what he’s about to do, I stay put because I like where this is going. He picks me up again and carries me to his room. My stomach flutters and my skin tingles, then he kicks the door shut with his foot.

“I should check the house again and make sure everything is locked up.”

I kiss his cheek and nod. “Yeah, you probably should.”

His large hands squeeze my butt then he tosses me onto the bed.

For a moment, I’m weightless as my body floats through the air for a second, and I land on the mattress with a puff. Before I can right myself, he’s crawling over my body. The fancy blouse I have on is scrunched up right below my chest and he presses his lips over my stomach.

Breathless, I lift my head and watch him get closer and closer to me until he’s hovering above my face. Our breath mingles and his hair tickles my cheekbones.

“I have a competition tomorrow, too.”

I hum, and we’re so close our lips brush together with the movement.

He searches my eyes and I wait with bated breath for his next move. I’ve never been so…tense and excited at the same time.

“Did you have fun tonight? It seems like you did,” he says, grinning.

I smile against his lips.

“Maybe we aren’t so different after all,” he says, and pecks my lips. Liam’s hips drop between my legs and I wrap my arms around his neck as he holds himself on his elbows.

I know we said this was temporary and we were willing to accept the consequences between us, but I have never felt this way about another human in my life. This feels so real to me that fake or temporary is hardly a word that I would use to describe us. It doesn’t matter what our circumstances are.

“Tu m’as consumé,” he mutters in my ear.

I lean back as far as I can since my back is on the bed. “Are you speaking French?”

He kisses my jaw and hums.

“You know French? ”

“Yes, princess. I’m fluent in French,” he says, kissing that place right at the corner of my jaw and it makes me sigh.

“Why are you fluent in French?” I ask.

He groans and sits up. “Does it matter?”

“To me, it does. I want to know you, Liam. Do you know just French or other languages?”

He sighs and kisses me briefly. “I’m fluent in French, I know some Spanish and Portuguese. I’m picking up Balinese because I’m there so much.”

“But there’s no surfing or rock climbing in France, right?” I ask him.

He chuckles and presses his lips on mine, lingering for a minute.

My eyes close and I lose myself in the moment, then he pulls back. “Yes, actually, there are both, but that’s not why I learned it.”

“This should be good.”

He grins. “You’re going to think this is stupid, but it was to get the ladies. They like when a man says things to them in a different language.”

“You cannot be serious,” I mutter.

He laughs and leans into my ear, and says, “Je suis très sérieux à propos de ce que j’ai commencé à ressentir pour toi.” He pauses. “I can feel the way your body responds to me with every word, princess.”

I shudder with the way the vowels roll off his lips and into my ear. He nips the lobe and leans back. “You learned French so you could pick up girls?”

He laughs again. “Yeah, but you liked it, didn’t you?” he asks smugly.

I lift a shoulder. “So what if I did?”

He laughs and crashes his lips to mine. “You can’t handle all the charm, can you?”

“No, it’s just too much for me,” I tell him, trying to keep a straight face .

He groans and kisses me again. “Je deviens obsédé par toi et ces lèvres,” he says and lifts off of me.

“What does that mean?” I ask him.

“It means it’s time for us to go to bed. I have a competition to win tomorrow.” I watch him leave the bedroom, likely to check all the windows and doors again, like he does every night. I rest my head back on the bed and smile at the ceiling.

This was an amazin g night.