I crowded her to the wall, kissing her hard. “First off, I didn’t simply fuck you. It was way more than that, and you know it. Stop belittling yourself. I hate it. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me? How incredibly sexy and perfect you are?”
“I am?”
I dropped my head to her neck. “Jesus, woman, how can you not know?”
“I-I’ve never…no one has ever…”
I pulled back, meeting her gaze with a fierce one of my own. “I am.” I lifted her, punching my hips forward. “Do I need to prove it to you again? Because I will. You’re not leaving this cabin until you believe me.”
“You already had me. Many times.”
“Not often enough apparently. For either of us.”
“But my hair’s a mess, and my clothes are wrinkled.”
I bent low, my voice firm. “Your hair is a mess from my hands. Because it’s soft and rich and I love touching it as I make love to you. Your clothes are wrinkled because I took them off you to see your beautiful body. What you see as a mess, I see as my job well done.”
Her eyes widened, her head falling back. A small purple bruise stood out on the base of her neck. I lowered my face, running my tongue along the edges of the blemish. I traced the mark, a sense of smugness filling my chest.
“I marked you,” I murmured.
“You did?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled, licking up her neck to her ear. “If I marked you, that means only one thing. You belong to me. My beautiful, sexy woman.” I bit down on her lobe. “All mine.”
She groaned, and I smirked against her skin. “I think my woman needs me to prove how beautiful and sexy she is.” I ground my pelvis against her.
“Yes, Van, show me,” she pleaded. “Make me yours.”
I laughed against her mouth. “Oh, Liv, you already are.”
We found the pub and hurried to the door as fast as Liv could hobble. It was deserted due to the time of the day and the weather. After a quick glance at the menu, we ordered a late lunch and mugs of steaming coffee. I added a shot of Bailey’s to Liv’s but kept mine plain. The heat would help chase away the last of the remaining chill.
Liv glanced up from her phone. “Aiden says Emmy is still in labor but doing fine.” She smiled. “Better, apparently, than Bentley is doing.”
I swallowed a long sip of coffee with a chuckle. “Not surprising. He is rather protective. He’d hate seeing her in any sort of pain.”
“Like you,” she observed, wrapping her hands around her mug.
I studied her over the rim of my mug. She looked different. More relaxed. There was color in her cheeks, and her eyes were gentle as they regarded me.
“Like me,” I repeated. “Which bothers you.”
“No,” she insisted. “I like how you make me feel, Van. I reacted to a memory the other day, not you,” she admitted and pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Every so often, my past creeps up on me, and I need to remember not to let it control my life.”
“Can you tell me, Liv?”
“My father,” she stated simply.
I nodded. I had figured that much already.
“He was a control freak. He ordered my mother around as if she were an employee. Everything had to be perfect. In its place. She had to look perfect. The house. Me. Nothing was ever good enough, though. He was never pleased, and he liked to express his displeasure.” She huffed a long breath. “I was a kid. A chubby, shy kid. I was far from perfect. He didn’t like that. He was critical and mean. Put me down all the time. How I looked. Spoke. Acted. The clothes I wore, my hair. Everything.”
I frowned. Her voice dropped, her gaze fixed on the table.
“He questioned every decision my mother ever made. He made me so frightened, I stopped talking. He told me everything I said was wrong, so I stopped trying.”
“Liv, baby…” I murmured, reaching for her hand to stop the constant movement of her fingers. She stared at our hands, clutching my fingers like a lifeline.
“I don’t know what caused it, but one day he was starting in on me, and my mother snapped. She told him off in no uncertain terms. There was a huge screaming match, and he stormed out. She didn’t hesitate. She packed a bag, and we left. She kept saying it was one thing to criticize her, but she was done with his treatment of me. We went to my uncle’s place, and he helped us. She filed for divorce right away and I never saw him again.” She met my gaze. “It took me a long time to talk again, to be able to speak for myself. Chris tried to take my voice away too, and I almost allowed it. I can’t let it happen again.”
“And it won’t. I love your strength and independence. I will never try to take that away from you. I overreacted to Vicky as well. It was a lapse, not a normal kind of behavior for me.” I squeezed her hand. “You know me better than that. I promise.”
She leaned over the table. “I know I do. You aren’t like either of them.”
“No, I’m not.” I regarded her in wonder. “I’m surprised you’re willing to even try, given your history, to be honest.”
She lifted one shoulder. “My father was controlling and mean. His words were meant to hurt, and he knew how to use them. Chris was controlling but more cunning. The way he spoke and the things he said were insidious. They got in my head and festered and ate away at me, making me feel worthless. That was how he controlled me until he decided he no longer wanted me. And Evan, well, he was simply selfish. Three men all of whom liked to use people. You aren’t a user.”
“I try not to be.”
She waited until our food was delivered before she spoke again.
“I’ve had enough experience with them to know.” She picked up her fork. “And you are not one,” she added vehemently, stabbing her salad.
“Okay, Livvy. Don’t take it out on the poor lettuce.”
She grimaced. “Sorry.”
Unable to resist, I leaned over the table, clasped the back of her neck and kissed her. “Don’t be sorry for feeling so strongly about me. I’m good with it.”
I sat back, grinning at the flush spread across her cheeks. I took a big bite of my burger, chewing it slowly. She ate quietly for a moment, then met my gaze.
“My mom leaves in a couple of days for Florida. I’d like you to meet her, if it isn’t too fast. Would you…would you like to come to dinner tomorrow?”
I dragged some fries through the ketchup on my plate. “Not too soon, and yes. I would love to.” I paused before taking another bite. “She has Mouse all night, though, right?”
“Yes.”
“So I get you until tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, ah…”
“Is that an issue?”
“No, if that’s what you want. I didn’t want to presume.”
I chewed and swallowed before replying. “Presume away. It’s what I want. I am nowhere close to being finished with you today.”
Her cheeks grew even darker, but she met my eyes, her golden pupils glowing in the light. “Maybe I should have ordered something other than a salad.”
I cut my burger in half and slid it onto her plate. “Start with this. You’re gonna need it.”