The music throbbed through the soles of Maya’s heels, a familiar bassline from a decade ago. The air in the converted warehouse was thick with the scent of cheap perfume, expensive booze, and nostalgia. She’d been circulating for an hour, pasting on a smile for people she’d once known intimately, but now felt like strangers wearing the skins of their former selves. High school reunions were a peculiar kind of purgatory.
She was just about to make a break for the exit, her hand already fishing for her car keys in her clutch, when she saw him. Across the dance floor, through the swirling fog machine and the press of bodies, stood Liam. He wasn’t dancing; he was leaning against the far wall, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers, his posture a study in controlled ease. He was talking to someone, but his gaze was fixed on her with an unsettling, unwavering intensity that made the air in her lungs catch.
Fifteen years. Fifteen years since she’d last seen him. He was meant to be in Australia, she’d heard. A marine biologist, chasing great whites. Instead, he was here, looking like the intervening years had been kind, brutally so. His face had lost its boyish softness, the jaw now sharp and defined under a dusting of dark stubble. His shoulders were broader, straining the seams of a simple black henley. He was a man now, and the realization sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat straight to her core.
She remembered the last time she saw him. The last time she’d touched him. The awkward, fumbling, glorious attempt on her childhood bedroom floor the night of their graduation. The whispered promises of forever that had dissolved into silence when he’d chosen a life on the other side of the world. The bitter taste of his rejection had curdled into a grudge, but now, looking at him, that grudge was vaporized by the sheer force of his presence.
He said something to his companion and began to move. He didn’t walk so much as cut a path through the crowd, a predator with a mission. His eyes never left hers, pinning her in place. The noise of the party faded to a dull roar, the flashing lights becoming a blur. It was just her, and him, and the electric, heavy silence between them.
He stopped a foot away. He smelled of clean soap and something darker, a hint of musk and sea salt. His gaze was hungry, traveling from her eyes down the length of her black cocktail dress, lingering on the bare expanse of her shoulders before returning to her face.
“Maya.” His voice was a low rumble, deeper than she remembered, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
“Liam.” Her own voice was a breathless whisper. A thousand accusations, a million questions, all got stuck in her throat, suffocated by the sight of him.
He offered a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You looked like you were about to bolt.”
“I was,” she admitted, her honesty surprising her.
“Don’t.” The single word was a command, soft but potent. “Not yet.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her arm. The touch was light, almost chaste, but it detonated a shockwave of sensation that raced up her arm and flooded her nervous system. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending standing at attention.
“I saw you the moment you walked in,” he said, his voice low enough that she had to lean in to hear him, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
“Liam,” she started, a wave of old hurt and defensiveness rising. “You left. You didn’t even say goodbye properly.”
His jaw tightened. “I know. I was a coward. I thought if I looked at you, I wouldn’t be able to get on the plane.” He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between them. His thigh brushed against hers, and the contact was a jolt of pure electricity. “And I was right. I’ve been thinking about you for fifteen years, Maya. About us. About what I left behind.”
“You can’t just—” She swallowed hard as he placed his hand on her hip, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate circle against the silk of her dress.
“I’m not trying to undo the past,” he murmured, his lips now at her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. “I’m just trying to rewrite the ending.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, dark with a promise that made her knees feel weak. “Dance with me.”
He didn’t take her to the center of the dance floor with the others. He guided her to the periphery, to a shadowed corner where two large potted ferns offered a fragile illusion of privacy. He pulled her close, not the awkward, swaying dance of teenagers, but a deep, grounding hold. His body was solid against hers, his chest hard, his hips pressing gently against her stomach. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and they swayed slowly to the slow, heavy beat.
His hands roamed her back, a broad, comforting pressure that soon turned into something more intimate. They slid lower, tracing the curve of her ass over the dress, before coming to rest on the bare skin of her waist, above her hip. His fingers dug in slightly, possessively, and Maya felt a moan threaten to escape her lips. The heat from his body was a furnace, wrapping around her, making her forget there was anyone else in the world.
His lips brushed against her earlobe, then her jaw, trailing feather-light kisses that sent shivers cascading down her spine. “God, you feel incredible,” he breathed against her neck.
She tilted her head back, giving him more access, drowning in the novelty of his touch. This was different. This was a man’s touch, confident and knowing. His hand slid from her back around to her front, his palm flattening against her lower stomach. He applied a firm pressure, pulling her even closer until she could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her.
“I want to get out of here,” he said, his voice rough, strained. “Now, Maya. Before I do something we might regret in front of all these people.”
Her mind screamed caution, but her body was far louder. The years of resentment melted under the relentless, searing heat of his desire. “The beach,” she whispered, an impulsive, reckless idea. “The one behind the old high school. I’m parked out back.”
He didn’t waste a second. He took her hand, his grip strong and sure, and pulled her through the crowd, out of the warehouse, and into the cool night air. The sudden silence was deafening after the cacophony inside. The parking lot was a maze of cars, and he led her to a sleek black SUV. He didn’t ask questions, just followed her directions in silence, his hand resting possessively on her thigh as he drove.
The drive was short, a quiet anticipation thick in the car. He pulled into the deserted gravel lot of the secluded beach, a place they’d frequented as teenagers, necking under the stars. He killed the engine, plunging them into darkness punctuated only by the silver glow of the moon reflecting off the water.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then he turned to her, his face half in shadow. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raw. “For everything. For leaving. For being an idiot.”
Before she could answer, he leaned over and captured her mouth in a kiss. It wasn’t tentative or nostalgic. It was a claiming. His lips were firm, demanding, and she parted her lips instantly, inviting him in. His tongue swept inside, tasting, exploring, dueling with hers in a frantic, hungry dance. It was a kiss that tasted of fifteen years of longing and regret, of pure, unadulterated desire.
He groaned against her mouth, his hands moving to her face, cupping it, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She reached for him, her fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Her body felt aflame, her skin impossibly sensitive. The thin silk of her dress was a barrier she desperately wanted gone.
He seem to read her mind. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and trailed his lips down her jaw, down the column of her throat. His fingers found the zipper of her dress at the back of her neck, and with a slow, deliberate pull, he lowered it. The sound of the zipper was loud in the silent car. He eased the straps off her shoulders, and the black dress pooled around her waist, leaving her torso bare.
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. His gaze was dark and appreciative as it roamed over her bared breasts. “Jesus, Maya,” he breathed, his voice full of awe. He reached out, his thumb brushing over a hardened nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through her that she felt between her legs.
“Liam,” she gasped, her back arching into his touch.
He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before he sucked gently. A low moan escaped her. It had been so long, so incredibly long, since she’d been touched like this, and never with this level of skill and intensity. He worshipped one breast with his mouth while his hand kneaded the other, rolling the nipple between his fingers until she was trembling, a wet heat pooling between her thighs.
His free hand slid down her stomach, his fingers finding the waistband of her panties. He didn’t stop to ask. He slipped his hand beneath the fabric, his fingers finding her wet, slick folds. She cried out softly, her hands flying to his shoulders for support.
“You’re so ready for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He found her clit, a slick, swollen pearl, and circled it with his thumb while he slowly pushed one thick finger inside her. She was so wet that he slid in without resistance, and she gasped at the sudden, welcome fullness.
He worked her with a slow, expert rhythm, his finger curling inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars. His thumb continued its merciless assault on her clit. The tension in her belly wound tighter and tighter, a coil of pure pleasure threatening to snap.
“I need you,” she panted, the coherency leaving her mind. “Liam, please… I need you inside me.”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice a guttural whisper. “I want to taste you first.” He withdrew his hand and, before she could protest, he was out of the car and opening her door. He hauled her out, her dress still around her waist, and pressed her against the cool hood of the SUV. He dropped to his knees before her.
The image of him there, on his knees, looking up at her with those hungry eyes, was so powerful, so erotic, it stole her breath. He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs, letting them fall to the gravel. He spread her legs with his hands, his gaze fixed on her exposed core, glistening with her desire.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, before he leaned in and licked her from her entrance to her clit.
The first touch of his hot tongue was a revelation. It was wet, broad, and devastating. He lapped at her like she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted,
