Unsung (2 page)

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Authors: Shannon Richard

BOOK: Unsung
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“I guess you are.” And there was that smile taking over her face again.
What the hell was going on?

“So what's it going to be? Do I have to share this beer with a nameless stranger?”

“I'm not telling you anything personal, either.”

He leaned in close again, a seriousness in his gaze that she somehow
knew
to be sincere. “You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to.”

Over the years she'd given out her fair share of fake names, and it was on the tip of her tongue to give him one tonight. But to her complete and utter shock, when she opened her mouth her name fell out.

“Harper.”

“Harper,” he repeated slowly, his eyes traveling over her face like he was not only memorizing her name but everything about her.

The scrutiny almost made her squirm.
Almost.
But Harper Laurence was made of much sterner stuff than that. Or at least she sure as hell hoped so.

“I'm Liam.” He put his beer on the bar and held out his hand. Before she could think better of it, she was putting her palm in his. His long fingers wrapped around her hand, his skin warm on hers and somehow traveling up and over her, like she was settling into a steaming bath or wrapping herself in a blanket straight out of the dryer.

Apparently she wasn't as numb as she thought.

Oh, this was going to be bad…or really,
really
good. She was just going to have to see now wasn't she?

*  *  *

The second the front door of the cabin closed Harper found herself pushed up against the wall. She only had a moment to take in the rich wooden floors and walls that stretched out from the entryway to the living room.

But as she was now looking up into warm green-gold eyes and pinned against said wall by the solid weight of a perfectly muscled, attractive-as-sin man, she found that she really couldn't care less about the décor. Or anything else for that matter.

All she cared about in that moment was Liam. He was all she'd cared about since he'd grabbed that beer from the bar.

They hadn't stopped with that first drink, either. She'd gotten her shots of tequila, and Liam had been right there next to her, licking the salt and sucking the lime. But neither of them had gotten crazy; they'd paced themselves up to a nice little buzz.

And then somewhere around midnight he'd leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“You know a place we can get a burger? I'm starving.” Dinner had seemed like ages ago and she usually always got the munchies when she drank anyway.

He'd smiled as he grabbed her hand and led her out of the bar. They walked two blocks to a twenty-four-hour diner where they'd both not only gotten a burger and fries, but the best chocolate malt milk shakes she'd ever had in her life. They then sat there for three hours and talked.

When he asked questions that bled too far into the personal side—career, where she was from, why she was in Nashville—she'd just shake her head and he'd move on to something else.

She told him about her French bulldog Luna, named so because of the crescent moon shape on the dog's chest. The spot was the only white on her otherwise entirely black body. He told her about his love for music. They discussed a whole lot of nothing really…yet, it didn't feel like nothing.

Which was probably how she'd ended up going back to his house with him. She'd never gone back to some guy's house that she'd just met. But when three o'clock rolled around—and they were both stone-cold sober—she hadn't been ready for the night to end.

Hadn't been ready to say good-bye.

And that was why she was currently pinned up against the wall with his chest—and other glorious body parts—pressing into hers.

“God you smell incredible. What is that?” he asked as he put his hands on either side of her head and leaned in, skimming his nose across her neck as he inhaled.

“Honey.”

“Honey?” he asked, pulling back and raising his eyebrows.

“Honey-scented lotion.”

“It's been driving me crazy all night.” He moved in closer, breathing her in again before he straightened and his eyes met hers. “I'm going to kiss you now. So if you have any problems with that, you should speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The wording of his statement was not lost on her, but she chose to ignore it. Tonight was all about the present. All about being in the moment with this man who clearly desired her. That was what she was choosing to focus on.

So did she have any problems with him kissing her? Why no, no she did not.

She ran her hands up the front of his shirt before she placed her palms flat on his chest. The handle of her clutch was looped around her wrist and it swayed to the side of them.

“No objections.” She shook her head. “I've been wondering what you were waiting for.”

He tilted his head to the side and gave her a wicked grin that had her imagining him doing other things with that mouth of his besides kissing.

He leaned in close, his mouth little more than a breath away before he veered off course and brought his lips to her ear. “I was waiting to get you alone, Harper. I knew the second I tasted you I'd want everything and I wouldn't be able to stop until I got it all.”

Her breath hitched at his words and her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, holding him tight.

He grazed her earlobe with his teeth before he trailed kisses down her jaw, his scruff rasping against her skin before he covered her mouth with his. His tongue dipped in past her lips, and the second it touched hers she understood exactly what he'd said.

She wanted
everything
, too.

His hands were no longer on the wall; one was palming her breast, the other her ass. Considering Harper's more than ample curves, he was getting two very nice handfuls. And if she had any doubts as to how much he wanted her, they were long gone as he shifted his body and his erection pressed into her thigh.

He pulled his mouth back from hers, breathing hard as he looked at her. “Damn. You taste like honey, too. So much better than I imagined.” He nipped at her bottom lip before he soothed it with a kiss. “Still no objections?”

“I'm objectionless.”

“Thank. God.” And just like that both of his hands were on her ass and he was picking her up in one swift move, her legs wrapping around his waist.

Now Harper wasn't a tiny thing, not by any means. She was a healthy size ten with D breasts, and shapely hips with a butt to match. So it would be an understatement to say that she was impressed by the fact that he picked her up and carried her through the cabin like she was nothing. She would've said so, too, but her mouth was occupied with his tongue again.

She was vaguely aware of the fact that the light from the living room was fading as they moved down the unlit hallway. Her shoulder and back brushed against a half-open door and it gave way, moving back and allowing them entry as he pushed both of their bodies through it. She dropped her hand, letting her clutch fall to the floor where it made an audible thunk on the wood.

A moment later she was flat on her back, Liam firmly wedged between her thighs, her legs locked around his waist, and her ankles cupping his ass. His cock pressed into the apex of her thighs and she couldn't help but move, rubbing herself against him and making him groan.

He pulled back from her mouth and looked down at her. A minimal amount of light from the living room was making its way into the bedroom, and his face was mostly in shadow, which was a damn shame. His slightly long and gloriously thick brown hair was hanging in his eyes. She reached up—she couldn't stop herself—and brushed his hair back, running her fingers across his forehead before she traced his hairline.

She could just make out his grin as he reached up and grabbed her hand. He pulled it from his head and brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips to her wrist. He found her other hand on his shoulder and did the same thing, kissing that wrist, too, before he moved both of her hands up and above her head, pinning them to the bed.

“Drop your legs,” he whispered as he moved his hands down the length of her arms.

She obeyed without even thinking, and he grinned again before he buried his face in her neck, opening his mouth wide on her throat. He shifted down her body, his hands now making their way along her sides while his lips moved across to the center of her chest.

“Did you know that your breasts are magnificent?” he asked before he bit the top of her shirt and pulled it down, exposing more of her chest.

She didn't get a chance to respond before he dipped his tongue between the very top of her cleavage. The only sound she made was a long low moan that filled the room.

Liam's hands were now under the hem of her shirt, his magic fingers on her bare stomach tracing circles as he moved up. He lifted his mouth from her breasts as he pushed her shirt up and over her head, her still outstretched arms making it all the easier.

He threw it to the side before he looked down at her, and she could just make out his head shaking from side to side. “Well, this just won't do. I can't see you.”

He moved, sitting up and shifting to the side. Three clicks echoed in the room before a soft glow filled the space.

“That's better,” he said as he settled back into his kneeling position between her legs.

He reached up and popped the top button on her jeans before he pulled the zipper down. And then he was shifting off the bed to stand, pulling her boots off and dropping them to the floor with two loud thuds. He grabbed the toes of her socks and they disappeared from her feet with simultaneous tugs. Then he was reaching up again, hooking his fingers in the top of her jeans and dragging them down her hips and legs. She shimmied, helping him in the process, and just like that she was down to her bra and panties.

Now Harper had long,
long
ago accepted the fact that she would never be a size two nor would the ever-coveted thigh gap be part of her anatomy. And that was perfectly okay with her. It had been a hard-won fight to get comfortable in her own skin.

But she had.

Adolescence hadn't been kind. Harper's family moved to Mirabelle right before the sixth grade. Starting over in a small town where most of the kids had known each other since birth—or at least kindergarten—hadn't been the easiest. Then there was the added fact that she'd been a chubby eleven-year-old who hit puberty a little bit earlier than everyone else. The girls had been downright cruel. The boys had been relentlessly horrible, too. Well, right up until she'd grown into her curves and her boobs hadn't been so
weird.

But a man's approval hadn't been something that Harper had ever sought out. She was who she was, and her body wasn't going to change based off of what someone else wanted. That being said, she was in no way immune to the look that Liam was currently giving her. Because no man had
ever
looked at her with so much desire.

His eyes raked her body, a look of reverence on his face that made her forget everything besides him and her, in that room, at that moment.

He reached out and traced a path up her knee, to her thigh, and across the front of her panties. They were navy blue cotton with an inch of cream lace around all of the edges. Her breath caught as he paused for just a moment at the very top, thinking that he might pull them down and touch her, but instead he moved up to her stomach.

“I was wrong,” he whispered, shaking his head. “It's
all
of you that's magnificent.” His fingers went around her belly button before he walked them up between her ribs and to the center of her chest. He leaned over her as he ran his hand along the swells of her breasts, starting at the side of her left and going across to the right.

He touched the tattoo inked just below her right shoulder, a lotus blossom with a floating heart hovering above the opened petals. He leaned down farther, pressing his lips to the tattoo, an open-mouthed kiss with his tongue on her skin.

Harper moved her arms from their stretched-out position above her head. She wanted her hands on him, unable to wait a second longer. Her fingers speared his hair and she tugged his head up, needing something else as well.

He didn't resist for a second, and when his mouth touched hers there was a renewed frenzy in the way their tongues tangled and their breaths mingled between hungry kisses. His hands were everywhere, palming her breasts and finding her erect nipples through the material of her bra. Then on her thighs and sliding up to her butt for something to hold on to as he moved against her.

Their bodies were perfectly aligned, his jeans unable to hide the more than impressive bulge behind his fly. He was pressing into her and she was going to lose her mind in about three point five seconds.

She let go of his hair and started tugging on his shirt. She needed her hands on more of him. Needed to feel his skin on hers. The second he realized what she was after he assisted in the de-clothing mission, levering himself up on one hand while he reached behind his back with the other and grabbed a fistful of shirt. He pulled it off in one swift move and threw it to the side.

Now Harper was not one to under-appreciate the male form in all of its glory, and Liam had
a lot
of glory. His muscled arms were flexed as he hovered over her, making the tattoos scattered across his arms stand out even more.

He had a bar of music wrapped around his left biceps, and underneath it was a bird about to take off in flight. Its feet were perched on a letter “M” that was inked in solid black above the bend in his arm.

She reached up, tracing the words
Then Sings My Soul
that ran down the inside of his right biceps. And then she was touching both of his pecs, her hands gliding down. He had a light dusting of hair that ran all the way past the waistband of his jeans.

She moved down his happy trail, her fingers outlining his abs, but he stopped her hands before she made it to her destination. “Not so fast.” He smiled as he shook his head. “You got to see my chest, now I get to see yours.”

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