**Chapter Eight: Confessions and Consequences**

A week later, Maya sat across from Liam in their favorite local café. The one with mismatched chairs, soft jazz, and the smell of cinnamon and roasted beans floating through the air. Her hands were wrapped around a mug of chamomile tea, but her thoughts weren't nearly as calm. She could feel the weight of what she was about to say.

"I have to tell you something," she said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Liam looked up, his expression open and calm. "Okay."

Her fingers tightened around the mug. "Remember that dating profile? The one I caught you on?"

His jaw flexed ever so slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah."

She took a shaky breath. "I created a profile. After I found yours. Not to cheat. I just... needed to understand why. And then I matched with someone."

Silence hung between them like a thick curtain.

"His name was Ethan," she added, watching him carefully. "We messaged. For a few days. Nothing physical happened, I swear. But we talked. Deeply. About our marriages. Our disappointments. Our dreams."

Liam's eyes didn't leave hers. "Did you fall for him?"

She hesitated. "I thought I might. But then we decided to meet, and when I saw him in person... I knew I couldn't. Because the person I was really trying to reach—was you."

Liam looked away for a long beat, then let out a long breath. "So you were using a fake name too?"

"No. My name was real. But the profile was under a nickname I used in college—M.J."

He gave a soft laugh, almost incredulous. "Wait. M.J.?"

Maya blinked. "Yes?"

Liam leaned back in his seat. "Holy hell. Maya, I matched with someone named M.J. weeks ago. I thought I was just being stupid, but... she reminded me of you."

The moment stretched between them, disbelief and dawning realization settling over both of them.

"It was us," Maya said, stunned. "We were talking to each other."

Liam gave a slow smile. "No wonder I felt like I was falling for someone again. It was you all along."

They both laughed—nervous, relieved, overwhelmed.

"So we matched by mistake," he said.

"Or maybe by fate," she countered.

That night, they returned home with hearts racing from the bizarre, beautiful twist. Once inside, Liam didn't hesitate. He turned to her the moment the door shut, eyes wild with emotion, his hands already gripping her waist as he kissed her hard.

"You're the only woman I want," he said against her lips. "Online, offline. Always."

Their mouths crashed again. Maya moaned into him, fingers twisting into his hair. They kissed like they hadn't in years—desperate, needy, filled with rediscovered longing. Liam's hands roamed her back, her hips, then slid beneath her shirt to feel bare skin.

She pulled away just long enough to yank her shirt over her head, baring herself to him. He growled softly, dropping his head to kiss along her collarbone, then lower. Her bra came off quickly, and he took one breast into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until she gasped.

"Bedroom," she panted.

"No," he said between kisses. "Right here. Right now."

He spun her around and guided her to the nearest surface—the dining table. With one sweep of his arm, everything clattered to the floor. He lifted her onto it, spreading her legs and pulling her panties down in one fluid motion.

Maya leaned back on her elbows, completely exposed, heart hammering. Liam dropped to his knees between her thighs.

He kissed the inside of one leg, then the other, teasing her with soft lips and quick flicks of his tongue. She trembled as he finally found her core, licking slowly, then sucking her clit into his mouth with maddening precision.

"Oh—Liam," she cried, head falling back.

He devoured her, one hand pinning her hips while the other slid a finger inside her, then another. She bucked against him, moaning louder as he brought her closer.

Her orgasm hit her like a wave crashing onto the shore—intense, unstoppable. She came with a strangled cry, legs locking around his shoulders.

But he didn't stop.

He kept going, kept sucking, kept thrusting his fingers inside her until she came again, this time sobbing his name.

Finally, he rose, his mouth wet, eyes dark with hunger.

"My turn," he growled.

He undressed quickly, kicking off his pants and boxers. His erection was thick, pulsing, already leaking. Maya reached out, wrapping her hand around him, stroking once, twice. He groaned, grabbing her wrist.

"I need to be inside you. Now."

He positioned himself at her entrance, eyes locked on hers. "You sure?"

"God, yes. Don't hold back."

He thrust into her in one hard motion. Maya's head snapped back, a strangled moan escaping her lips. He filled her completely, stretching her, pressing against every sensitive spot.

They found a rhythm quickly—fast, raw, primal. The table creaked beneath them, her cries echoing in the room as he pounded into her.

"Yes, Liam—harder—don't stop!" she begged.

He slammed into her with wild abandon, his hands gripping her hips, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. He leaned over, kissing her fiercely, swallowing her moans.

"I love you," he grunted. "So damn much."

"Show me," she whispered.

He lifted her off the table, still inside her, and carried her to the couch. He laid her down, never breaking the connection, and began to move again—slower this time, deeper.

Their eyes locked. His hand slid between them, fingers circling her clit. She whimpered, already close again.

"Come for me, Maya."

And she did. Her third climax ripped through her, her nails digging into his shoulders as she shattered beneath him.

Liam followed moments later, roaring her name as he spilled inside her, their bodies trembling together.

They collapsed in a tangled heap, breathing heavily, their skin slick with sweat.

"That was..." she began, breathless.

"Everything," he finished.

Later that night, after a long shower where they touched and laughed and kissed some more, they curled up in bed naked, limbs entwined.

They talked for hours, reliving the messages they'd unknowingly sent to each other. Liam confessed how much M.J. had intrigued him. Maya blushed and admitted Ethan made her believe in passion again.

"It was us," she said softly. "The whole time."

He kissed her forehead. "And we still have so much to discover."

The next morning, they stayed in bed, making love again—slow, tender, exploring each other with reverence.

By the time they made breakfast, it was noon. They laughed, stealing kisses between bites of pancakes.

That night, under the soft glow of their bedroom light, they added one more note to their journal:

*Day 16 — Matched by mistake. Staying by choice *

**To be continued...**