Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)(42)

I'm on the verge of dozing off when there's an extra bright flash of lightning, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Three seconds later, the lights go out.

"You have to be freaking kidding me!"

With a grunt of frustration, I swallow the rest of my wine and climb out of the tub. This is ridiculous.

Moving carefully by candlelight, I pull on one of the fluffy, white bathrobes hanging on the wall and proceed to brush my teeth so roughly, my gums bleed. Feeling sorry for myself, I take a candle, go back into the bedroom, and climb into bed.

As I sink into the luxurious mattress, I feel like I'm surrounded by emptiness. A giant empty house. A huge empty bed. Empty arms where Liam should be.

I sigh and close my eyes, and I'm horrified when the words from Annie start echoing in my brain:

The sun'll come out ... tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun.

Stuff it, you perky ginger.





SIX


He Knows When You're Awake




I don't sleep well. Nightmares about being held down on a stone altar while Espírito Vingativo prepares to sacrifice me to the gods make me toss and turn for hours. The weather doesn't help. Even though the intensity of the storm lessens, the wind continues to howl around the house, making it sound like the island is screaming.

I don't know what time it is when I stagger to the bathroom, but the power is still out and the candles have burned down, so I try not to bump into anything in the darkness.

When I'm done, I head back into the bedroom. Just before I climb back into bed, there's movement out the corner of my eye, and as I turn, I see the outline of a man standing right in front of me.

"Jesus Christ!"

As soon as I open my mouth to scream, the shadow lunges forward and grabs me. My back hits the wall as a huge, wet hand closes over my mouth.

On instinct, I thrash against him, trying to get free, but he's tall and strong, and when he lays his weight against me, I can barely move.

"Hey, calm down. It's me. Shhh. It's just me."

His voice sends goosebumps up my spine the same instant the lightning flashes to give me a better look at his face.

As recognition hits my brain, he lets me go and stands back. "Sorry for the scare. Didn't realize the power was out."

"Oh, my God, Liam!" I throw my arms around his neck, and he pulls me into a tight hug. His hair is down to his shoulders and soaked, and I feel the roughness of his beard as he presses his face into my neck.

"How did you get here?" I ask. "I thought you were stranded until the storm passed."

He tightens his grip and says, "If you think a little bad weather is going to keep me from my woman, then you're underestimating my desperate, pathological need for you."

I notice he's dripping onto the floor. "Wait, did you swim here?"

He chuckles. "Are you kidding? Even ducks are drowning out there right now." He strokes my back. "I might be desperate, but I'm not suicidal."

"Then how?"

"It's a long story, but just in case the Brazilian police come calling tomorrow to track down some crazy American who commandeered a luxury yacht, you know nothing." He pulls back and looks at me. "I can't believe I'm here with you. Jesus, Liss. I can't ..." He shakes his head. "You don't even know how I'm feeling right now. I've missed you so f*cking much."

He leans down and cautiously presses his lips against mine. I inhale as a jolt of electricity hits me that's more powerful than all of the lightning outside. While we were apart, I thought I remembered how intense our chemistry was. How being with him lit napalm beneath my skin. I was wrong. Whatever thigh-tingling memories I had of how Liam Quinn affects me were a pale, sad imitation of the explosive, knee-buckling reality.

With a sharp inhale, he changes the angle of his mouth and sucks gently on my lips, first the top, then the bottom. Lord, how he tastes and smells. Perfect.

At first he's hesitant, like he doesn't remember how to kiss me. I don't blame him. It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember, either. But our instincts return quickly, and when that happens, our mouths open and tongues slide until we devolve into a mess of grasping hands and primal, desperate noises.

I try to feel him all at once. Reclaim the body I've been craving. He seems to do the same as he moves his hands into my hair and grinds against my stomach. The shape and feel of him is both brand new and completely familiar. Even though his wild hair and lumberjack beard are different, for the first time in months I feel whole. His lips are as intoxicating as they've always been, and the soft but insistent sweep of his tongue has me clawing for more.

"Your beard feels weird," I say as I pull back, breathless and dizzy.

"Yeah?" He looks down and tugs on the tie that's keeping my robe closed. "Good weird or bad weird?" He pushes open the robe and grazes his hands over my naked waist.

I suck in a breath and scrape my nails through his facial hair. "I'm not sure. Better kiss me again so I can decide."

This time when he kisses me, there's no hesitation. It's full on, one-hundred-percent turbo-charged Liam. He shoves my robe off my shoulders with rough hands and sets my body on fire with his fingers while his mouth throws gasoline on the flames.