Western Flame

Chapter 27

Liana smelled so damned good, and the overwhelming need that flared up with her mouth on his swallowed whatever reservations he had whole about admitting his feelings for her. She had riled him up with all that talk, pushing him, trying as hard as she could to set him off.

Normally that would have pissed him off but tonight, he saw it for what it was. She was desperate to get him to open up, to let out his worry, assuming he was mad. He was, of course, but that wasn't what he wanted to be around her. For the longest time, most folks assumed mad was his default, he had come to realise. Including her.

He hated that.

She let out a breathy gasp, lifting her hips to settle on his lap, sending the remaining blood from his head straight south, her heat setting loose thoughts of sex, her naked body flush with his. His thigh muscles protested and he grunted as he tried to settle himself in a more comfortable position.

"You okay? That didn't sound like a happy noise."

"The floor is hard," he murmured. Despite the carpet, he would much rather be back up on the couch, or in her bed, if she was willing.

She leapt up, and held out a hand, her teeth in her bottom lip, her hair in a wild tangle around her head. "Come with me then," she said, and wiggled her hand.

He reached for it, and she awkwardly levered him up. As she caught her balance, he pulled her to him, one arm around her waist.

"Careful," he said in her ear. "Don't want to fall."

"Too late, cowboy," she quipped back.

Her response stole his ability to move, that familiar feeling of adrenaline spiking across his chest whenever words between them caught him by surprise. Did she realise what she said? Maybe not, but she tugged on his hand and he dutifully followed her down the short hall to her bedroom.

Her room was cluttered, a jumble of clothes in front of the closet, a chair with jeans and a sweater draped sideways over the back, books stacked high beside her bedside table. It was intimately her, the chaos of her things, with no order. The bed was made, strangely enough, with pillows and stuffed animals all piled against the headboard. Liana jumped and shoved it off into the corner with hasty movements, her cheeks red as she fussed.

Tanner spied a dark brown teddy bear with a beige belly amongst the jumble now on the floor. He walked over and picked it up on impulse.

"You still have this?" he said as she lunged across the bed. She swiped it out of his hand and then let out a deep sigh of frustration.

"Yeah," she grumbled. "I know, it's stu—"

"Not stupid," he interrupted. "I remember the night I gave this to you."

It immediately sent her backwards to sit on the bed, the bear squished in her hands. Shit. He'd done it again. He'd reminded her of before, and it shut her down. All thoughts of her naked and under him evaporated as he took a deep breath, waiting for her to physically shove him out the door.

"Me too," she whispered, and hung her head. "A long time ago."

The memories that had been their constant companion needed to be here. It was part of them and he didn't want to pretend they didn't exist to keep the peace anymore. He'd come here tonight looking for her comfort, but now, he needed clarity. For both their sakes. He had to tread carefully, but backing away wasn't an option. Not like he had at dinner, or in his bedroom just last night.

"I toppled that entire stack of bottles in one go, I think, right? That was the one you picked. It was like I'd given you the world when I handed it over to you."