24
The dinner Liam cooked was surprisingly delicious. Even though he knew his way around a kitchen, that didn't necessarily mean he could put together something tasty. But the pasta was expertly cooked and the sauce was the perfect blend of savory spices and fresh vegetables.
We ate dinner without Liam asking any more heart wrenching questions. We kept the conversation light, mostly talking about the tour.
I offered to do the dishes since he had cooked. He insisted on helping. Liam's definition of helping was pressing up against my back, his hips nestled firmly against my ass, and his hands running up and down my sides.
"Stop distracting me," I scolded with a laugh. "You're making me get water everywhere."
He bit down lightly on my ear.
"We're going to leave this kitchen more of a mess than we left off," I warned.
His hands stroked down my hips and back up my inner thighs.
"Do you want me to drop a dish and break it?" I asked.
"I've got plenty more." His fingers skirted the edges of my panties.
My legs went weak.
"The dishes can wait," I said, giving in.
"I've got a dishwasher anyway."
I glared at him. "Then why are we doing this by hand?"
"Because I love the view of your ass from this angle."
"Asshole."
He ground his hips against mine. His cock was hardening in his jeans. My inner muscles clenched at the memory of him inside me, hot and thick.
"Why don't I give you a tour of the place?" he said.
"Only if your bedroom is stop number one."
Liam took my hand and tugged me out of the kitchen, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway. He opened the door to a large bedroom with a king sized bed and plush carpet. There was an acoustic guitar in a stand in the far corner and a vinyl record player in the other. I supposed in a house this big he didn't have to worry about neighbors complaining about the noise.
Despite the ache between my legs, I took a moment to look around. Liam had seen where I lived. He'd gotten that peek inside my head. I couldn't help but want to do the same.
He had several tall bookshelves, but instead of books they held rows upon rows of CDs and vinyl records.
My eye caught one CD in particular, a first edition ofForever Night's debut indie album, signed by all the band members. There weren't many copies of these left. I'd looked myself, but had never been able to score one.
I picked it up, examining the album cover. It was all abstract swirls with a pale moon, almost like Van Gogh'sThe Starry Night, but with black and red instead of blue and yellow.
"You're holding two hundred dollars in your hand right now," Liam said.
I whistled. "Is that how much one of these things is worth?"
"Last time I checked, that was the going rate online."
"I wonder how much one of our signed debut albums is worth."
"Five hundred."
I blinked at Liam.
