"What are you doing?" she asked.
Her voice wasn't rude. It was shy. Almost uncertain. She still hadn't turned around.
Liam didn't answer right away.
He just reached out and pulled the blanket over both of them.
The warmth settled around them immediately, trapping the heat of their bodies in the small space beneath.
"What I want," he said finally.
His voice was low. Calm. Direct.
Tasha didn't say anything.
She just went still.
Not tense. Not pulling away.
Just still. Like she'd been waiting for him to say exactly that and now that he had, the decision was made.
'The way he said that. Like he didn't need permission.'
Tasha pressed one finger between her thighs — almost without thinking — and felt the answer before she could pretend the question wasn't there. 'God. What is wrong with me?'
He moved closer.
His chest pressed against her back through the thin fabric of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt.
