Free Man of Mystery: A BBW Romantic Suspense by Lorelei Moone

all over again.
    “You’re dropping me at home?”
    Liam pulls into an empty parking space outside my building and turns to face me. His expression is quite cold, practical. Even though we’re sitting next to each other in a confined space, still he feels miles away.
    “After the day you’ve had, perhaps you should rest,” he says, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. He’s right, probably, but I feel anything but logical.
    “You realize they picked me up outside my local Chinese joint, right? And they knew my name. What if there are more of these people out there? They could just turn up at my house.”
    I wet my lips nervously, anxious for him to change his mind. I desperately need him to stay. And it’s only partially because I’m worried someone will come for me again.
    He considers my justification for a moment, looks out the window as if to check the area for any threats, then focuses on me again. His eyes linger on mine, then on my lips for a bit. The tension between us is suddenly too much to bear, rendering me breathless.
    “I suppose it would be safer for you not to be alone. Would it be OK for me to come up?”
    I try not to make my relief known, but I’m sure it’s written on my face anyway.
    “That would be great.” I smile at him, and he seems to relax a little at last.
    We exit the car and head up to my apartment. I try not to consider how much of a mess it is inside.
How does it matter? He’s already seen the chaos that is my home when he dropped me off last week.
By the time I unlock the front door, my idle concerns make way for excitement. It’s been a while since I’ve invited a guy home with me and what a catch he is.
    I look over at his face as I push the door open. He’s staring at me, rather than at everything else around us. Something about him has changed. He’s open again, available. Gone is the cold, business-like Liam who had taken over earlier to get us out of trouble. The man I see following me inside my living room is all warm, hot even. His eyes betray the passion that had haunted me for the better part of a week after our first night together.
    Earlier, it had seemed like he wanted to keep things professional, but now his defenses are down again.
    As the door squeaks shut behind us, he cups my face and presses his lips against mine, taking my breath away all over again.
    “Did you mean that earlier?” he asks.
    “What?” I breathe.
    “That you missed me?” He looks concerned, like he’s not at all sure how I feel about him. It’s endearing. “I was being serious; no need to laugh at me,” he says, while maintaining eye contact.
    I only stop grinning when he lifts me up into his arms, effortlessly. This will never get old. I wrap my arms around him and nibble on his neck as he carries me into the bedroom.
    “It’s just funny, because normally that’s the type of question I’d ask,” I explain, looking into his eyes as he lays me down on my pillows.
    “It’s a pertinent question.” He gets onto the bed half on top of me without ever breaking eye contact.
    “It is.”
    He pauses for a moment, waiting for me to say something more, but the sight of him so near me is so distracting, the right words don’t come to me just yet. Then, he looks down at what I’m wearing. I wait for a remark, but it’s not forthcoming.
    I gasp when he tears my clothes off me. Normally I’d be annoyed, but the outfit was already ruined after my earlier ordeal in the van anyway. And I’ve never had a man tear my clothes off before; that’s the sort of thing that happens to perfect-looking people in movies and romance novels, not to girls like me. Only, right now, it
is
happening to me.
    At least one of us is perfect…
    He looks at me with fiery eyes, like he could devour me right now, no matter what or who stands in his way.
    “I missed you so much; I thought I was going to go crazy waiting a week to see you,” I whisper.
    “Good thing we ended up seeing each