The Coldest Summer✓

Forty-two

Edelweiss is playing on the TV as The Sound of Music proceeds smoothly. I could watch this movie over and over again and never tire. It always takes me back to the days when my family was here, although I remember it vaguely.

However, despite the sweet nostalgic memories pouring inside me, my mind doesn't stray from the present. I'm still in Liam's arms, laying beside him with my cheek against his solid chest, my one leg across his thighs.

I feel safe when his body is this close to mine, all the while I'm playing with the soft fabric of his shirt, drawing circles and letters at times, trying to forget the past and embrace what I currently have, hoping for a better future.

"What's on your mind?" Liam asks.

"Just you," I whisper and smile indulgently, still glued to him like an adhesive material on the wood.

A gentle laugh rumbles in his chest as he remarks, "I'm here."

Yes, he is, but I want no more distance between us. I want to feel closer to him than this. I want more intimacy with him. I want to make love to him.

The old Kira wouldn't want this, but the new and bold one does. Honestly, I feel very proud of myself for even wanting his touch.

"I know. And I don't want to let you go," I mutter with a sigh and try to rise. He strains my waist so I don't move. "What?" Chuckling, I gaze up at him.

"Don't go. Stay right here," he pleads. Automatically, I comply by laying back on my tummy, my breasts pressed onto the muscles of his hard chest. "We'll take one step at a time, Kira. I promise I won't push your limits until you tell me to. But I still want to hold you, to touch you, and to kiss you deeply."

Mild excitement runs through me, and my cheeks suddenly turn hot like desert sand at noon.

"Then hold me," I murmur in a whisper, a smile on my curved lips. "Touch me, and kiss me. Now." I fall subtly to his side, propping my thing about his waist where he places his hand on my knee.

Smiling, his body shifts. He lies on the opposite side, facing me directly. We're now staring at each other, burning eyes mingling with scorching breaths that speak volumes about our mutual desire.

"If you feel uncomfortable, you tell me to stop. Are we clear?"

"Clear," I answer obediently, nodding my head.

Liam takes his time to study my features, from my bare feet, my curves, my face, and every flex of my muscles as if he's just seeing me today. And when I nearly release a sigh, his lips seal mine. Willingly I give him access to my mouth.

Softly without a rush, we kiss, and deeply we go as his one hand caresses my hair from the back base of my neck upward, with the other sliding over my silky robe questing for the skin of my thigh underneath it.

I emit a soft moan, and it's certainly from pleasure.

"You're beautiful, Ms. Jones," Liam says when we pause, sucking in a long breath. "Don't ever think otherwise."

"Okay," I breathe.

"Good. Now I'm going to touch you." His voice is thick and deep. "I want to make you feel good, my love, so don't hold yourself by thinking beyond us. It's me, your Mr. Darcy. I'm here with you. I want you to focus on only me."

My heartbeat accelerates, but I'm not gonna deny whatever he has in mind for us

I nod, my voice still strained, and I smile at the "Mr. Darcy" part. It's intimate. Now I know why we kept our formalities which weren't normal at all. It was a sign that we didn't want normal; we wanted more than we cared to admit.