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He buried his head into the curve of my neck and inhaled audibly. “Black lace,” he murmured. The pad of his finger slid between the elastic and my skin, and my mouth fell open. “I bet you’ve got a naughty library fantasy, don’t you, my little bookworm?”
If I didn’t before, I didnow.
Hard bookshelf edges, his hands digging into my hips, and the impossible task of staying quiet while he worked me into a frenzy.
Yes.
Yes, I had that fantasy and wanted to act on it immediately.
My hand gripped his wrist, and I tried to slide his hand from the outside of my thigh to the ache throbbing between my legs.
But he held firm, clucking his tongue as he slid his nose along the line of my jaw. “Not yet, love.”
“You are a sadist,” I whimpered. “Pretty sure courting behavior doesn’t track when you have your hand up my skirt on our first date.”
His chuckle was dark and low, and a shiver racked my spine.
Liam lifted his head. He pulled his hand out from underneath my skirt and coasted his palm up the side of my waist, not stopping until the weight of my breast was fully in his palm. “This black lace too?”
My gaze held his. “Yes.”
“You get dressed today and think about me?” he asked.
I nodded. “Thought about you taking them off too.”
I didn’t know who this sex goddess was, but I liked her a whole frickin’ lot.
Not once in my life had I wanted dirty-talking first-date behavior where we might get caught, and experiencing it now—with him—was the best kind of excellent.
His jaw clenched, and his palm coasted up my chest until his fingers lightly gripped the back of my neck, his thumb pressing under my jaw so that my mouth tilted up toward his.
“My turn for a question,” I said in a hushed tone. My fingers curled around his belt buckle, and my knuckles brushed the heated skin of his stomach. The muscles there twitched. “If I’d been single when you met me, would you have asked me out?”
In reality, it was a pointless question. But I still wanted to know.
“Not at first,” he admitted. His gaze was intense, filled with hunger and heat. “Likely would have pined for you like a bloody idiot all the same. Would’ve fought it tooth and nail even if you’d never had a ring on your finger.” I nodded, dropping my eyes to stare at his mouth. “You know that’s not about you, yeah?”
Again, I nodded. “I know. Maybe I wasn’t wasting my time all those years. We both needed it. Needed to know for sure.”
He hummed, his eyes tracing my face.
“Eventually,” he said, “we would’ve ended up right here. No matter how we got there.”
Have you ever had a smile that starts from your heart? I felt it deep in my chest, warm and soft and sweet, before my lips even thought about moving. “You’re not scared anymore?”
His slightly crooked smile was self-deprecating, his eyes adoring. “Fucking terrified. But I know what it’s like to kiss you now.” He leaned in, whispering against my lips, and my eyelids fluttered shut. “So as long as you keep doing that, I won’t let it stop me anymore.”
I pushed up onto the balls of my feet, slanting my mouth over his while he wrapped me tightly in his arms.
The kiss was fierce and passionate, a bright flash of heat, over almost as quickly as it began, and we panted against each other’s lips when he pulled away.
“I can do that,” I promised.
Liam set his chin on the top of my head, holding me tight as his chest expanded on a deep, relieved exhale.
With my face tucked against the steady hammering of his heart, I suddenly wanted to cry as the poignancy of the moment stretched intosomething beautiful and heavy and wonderful. And I wanted other things too.
I wanted to read on the couch with him while it rained outside.
