The door opened and Liam swung through. Sans boot. But still using crutches.
Claire blinked and then looked at his leg again. Gray shorts, tanned calves, and sneakers.
Nope. Not seeing things. No boot.
He grinned. "Hey."
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Oh, right." He crossed to her slowly and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
She stifled a yawn. "That was nice but I meant, where's your boot?"
"Ditched it with Andy's approval this morning. I get to start physical therapy on Wednesday." He looked as excited as a kid with a pile of presents on Christmas morning.
"That's great. So, his two-week time frame was spot-on."
"The ankle still aches a lot and it's tight and still a little swollen, but he says that's normal. All systems go on recovery mode." He frowned. "No offense, but you look beat."
"I am beat. A frantic, six a.m. phone call from Lauren didn't help my beauty sleep."
"You're still beautiful."
"Thank you." Heat rushed into her cheeks.
"Is everything okay with your sister?"
"Yeah. Just teenage drama. It was fine by the time we ended the call."
"She's lucky to have you." He tossed his costume onto the couch. "After the game, why don't you come home with me? Slade won't be there, the team is flying to St. Louis right after the game. It'll be just you and me. We can have dinner. You can relax. I can hide your phone so your sisters don't bug you for a few hours."
Laughing, she leaned forward and kissed him. "That's the nicest offer I've had in a long time."
"Yeah? So if I add in a massage and drinks, does that increase the chances of you saying yes?"
She drained her coffee and set the cup aside, lifted by the anticipation of a laid-back Sunday evening with Liam. "I'm in."
Hours later, as early evening set in, she followed Liam into his apartment. She kicked off her flats, and stifling a yawn, walked right into his back. "Sorry."
"Careful, or I'll think you had more than one glass of wine with dinner." He turned and his eyes twinkled. "Want another?"
"Wine? I'll get it. You still can't carry things."
"Just for a few more days." He led her into the kitchen and nodded at the bottle of wine and two glasses on the counter. "I set these out this morning, hoping I'd be successful in convincing you to come over."
She smiled and worked on opening the bottle, then pouring the wine. "I'm glad you did. I needed tonight."
He moved to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack, then threw it on his shoulder to free his hands for the crutches. "We can sit in the living room."
Claire carried the glasses, admiring Liam's strong back and wide shoulders.
"Sit right here." He patted the middle couch cushion and then sat beside it and removed his sneakers. "I can massage your shoulders while I ice my ankle."
"Multitasking." She smiled and put the glasses down, then helped him elevate his foot and set the pack in place. The couch, a brown suede, had deep cushions that cradled the body.
His warm hands kneaded her shoulders, loosening the tight muscles. Her head lolled forward. "Feels so good."
"You're really tight."
"Mmm."
His fingers flexed on her neck, tiny circles of pleasure that slowly crept onto her scalp. Her hair tangled around his fingers but she didn't care. The sensation felt too good.
His other hand crept under her T-shirt, rubbing along her spine. She arched her back, stretching into him as his hand glided along her torso to rest on her stomach.
"Liam." She twisted toward him, seeking his mouth.
His teeth grazed her lips and he skimmed his fingers higher until they slid over the satin covering her breast.
She threaded her hands into his hair, holding onto him as the kiss deepened and his fingers explored. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin. She strained to get closer but her position prevented her from accessing more of him. Frustrated, she swung her leg over until she straddled him.
"There. That's better." Smiling, she stroked her fingers along his face.
His hands clamped at her waist. "Much better. Kiss me."
Leaning down, she licked her lips and watched his eyes darken. She flattened her hands on his shoulders, tilted her head, and brushed her lips over his, soft, light, and teasing.
He ran his hands up and down her back, and then under her shirt to follow the same path. Up, stopping at her bra clasp, working the clasp free, and then massaging with firm hands over every inch of skin.
Claire leaned back, desperate to see, to touch. She tugged his shirt over his torso. He stopped touching her long enough to yank the garment over his head and toss it across the room. Mouth gone dry, she gazed at his body. Tan skin stretched over developed muscles. He was a study in a well-built male. Her fingers itched to touch him. She traced the defined pecs. His skin was so warm under the sensitive pads of her fingers. When she reached his abs, he sucked in a breath and then groaned. His fingers tightened on her waist.
Eyes hot and wild, he inched her shirt up, his knuckles dragging along her skin. The shirt fell free and with a flick of his fingers, her bra straps slipped off her shoulders and it fell to her wrists. He gathered the material and twisted it until her hands were together, and then he lifted her arms high over her head so that her back arched and her breasts pressed into his chest. He worked his lips, teeth, and tongue over her jaw and neck, driving her crazy with nips on sensitive skin.
One hand drifted down and slid into the back pocket of her jeans. He cupped her rear and ground her into his erection.
Off balance, she could only lean into him. When he released his hold on her hands to slide his other hand to cup her rear, she
