whispers of a forbidden flame

CHAPTER TWO

Bella – Age 22

I don’t sleep.

How could I, after the things Liam did to me on that couch… or more terrifying — how I didn’t want him to stop?

I spent the whole night replaying the moment he devoured my mouth like he’d been starving for me his whole life. His hands on my waist… the way he groaned my name.

God. What have I done?

Now I sit on the edge of my bed at dawn — knees tucked to my chest, heartbeat thundering — terrified and wildly electrified at the same time. Does he regret it? Will he pretend it meant nothing?

A soft knock.

“Bella?”

It’s him.

I open the door with trembling hands. He stands in a black hoodie and sweatpants, his hair mussed, eyes etched with exhaustion and heat.

“Can we talk?” he asks hoarsely.

I nod. He steps inside and closes the door. We stand in awkward silence.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he finally says.

The words slice through my chest.

“Oh.” I stare at the floor. “Right. It was a mistake.”

He swears silently and grabs my hands. “No. That’s not what I mean.” His voice trembles. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was the best damn thing I’ve felt in years… and that’s the problem.”

My breath leaves me.

He steps closer. “You’re off-limits, Arabella. Carter trusted me with you. You’re young, innocent—”

“I’m not innocent,” I whisper. “Not with you.”

The look he gives me burns. He brushes his knuckles down my cheek. We both stand there, fighting the madness of wanting each other again, even more desperately.

“We should stay away from each other,” he murmurs.

My fingers fit his hoodie. “Then push me away,” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

His jaw clenches. “I can’t.”

Our lips meet again like magnets snapping together — harder, messier, hungrier than before.

He lifts me onto the dresser and my legs wrap around his waist. His tongue sweeps into my mouth like he owns me, eating every sound I make, stealing every rational thought.

“Liam,” I gasp as he bites my bottom lip. “We shouldn’t—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing my neck with sinful precision, “but I’m so done pretending I don’t want you.”

His hips roll against mine and I moan shamelessly. My fingertips dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hand slides under my shirt, caressing the underside of my breast, thumb brushing my n****e through the lace. Sparks shoot down between my legs.

“Tell me to stop,” he pants.

My reply is a desperate whimper, arching into his touch.

He kisses me senseless — until we’re a tangle of ragged breaths, sweaty skin, and unfiltered desire. I feel the thick outline of his arousal against me and I go dizzy with want.

But just as his hands begin pushing down my panties, he freezes — as if struck. He swears under his breath and steps back.

“We can’t,” he chokes, pulling away completely.

I’m left throbbing, frustrated, heartbroken. “Why?”

“Because if I take you now — I won’t ever be able to let you go.”

---

Liam – Age 37

I run into the shower with cold water blasting to regain my sanity. What the hell am I doing? I almost took her on a dresser like a savage — Carter’s baby girl.

But she’s not a baby girl anymore, which scares me.

I stay under the freezing water until my skin numbs and guilt claws deeper. When I finally come downstairs, she’s sitting at the dining table wearing a massive hoodie, eating cereal silently. She won’t look at me.

“Morning,” I croak.

She doesn’t answer.

I pour myself coffee, sit across from her, and after a while she whispers, “Do you regret it?”

“No.” I stare at her lips. “I only regret stopping.”

She finally looks at me. Her cheeks turn pink.

I lean toward her. “I want you, Bella… more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But if we cross that line… there’s no going back. I won’t be able to act like your father’s friend again. I’ll want to keep you. Always.”

Her chest rises and falls. I watch hope bloom in her eyes. “So keep me,” she whispers.

Something inside me snaps. I drag her onto my lap shamelessly — uncaring that sunlight pours in through the kitchen windows.

“I’m going to hell for this,” I growl, crushing my mouth to hers.

She melts into me instantly, hands clutching my hair. I kiss her wildly, greedy, possessive, sliding my tongue against hers until she moans softly into my mouth.

“Oh God — Liam—”

“Upstairs,” I rasp, standing abruptly with her in my arms. She squeals as I carry her like a bride toward the staircase, nibbling her jaw. “Your room… now. Before I take you against this wall.”

She shudders and buries her face in my neck.

We barely make it to her bedroom before I kick the door shut, lay her on the bed, and hover above her like a starving beast.

One slow, sinful kiss becomes another… and another… until our control is gone. He claims my mouth, my throat, and my body as if it was always his.

Just as I tug my shirt off her beautiful body — my phone rings.

Carter. Bella’s father.

Fuck.

We freeze. My heart stops beating.

Bella’s eyes widen in panic. I press a finger to her lips and answer the call with my voice gruff and uneven.

“H-hey… brother.”

“Liam!” Carter booms cheerfully. “Hope Bella’s not giving you trouble. Listen — flight got delayed for another month. Looks like you’ll be stuck babysitting her longer than we planned.”

I choke, staring at his half-naked daughter sprawled beneath me.

“No problem,” I croak. “She’s… no trouble at all.”

As soon as I hang up, Bella starts laughing breathlessly, covering her mouth. I laugh too — the chaos between lust and guilt twisting inside both of us.

“So,” she whispers coyly, brushing her lips against mine, “still want to take me?”

I answer with a kiss that steals her air.

“Every second until I die.”