I lick my lips, find a wobbly smile, and whisper, “Practice makes perfect.”
Liam’s eyes darken. His grip on my waist tightens. And for a heartbeat, the whole world holds its breath. Then he kisses me again. No hesitation this time. No softness. This kiss is want. It’s possession. It’s ours.
He presses me back against the edge of the desk, hands framing my hips like he’s daring me to pretend this isn’t exactly where I belong. His mouth moves over mine with a kind of reverence laced with hunger, stealing the breath from my lungs and setting every nerve ending on fire.
I kiss him back just as desperately, fisting his shirt, pulling him closer until there’s nothing left between us but heat and the pounding of two hearts finally giving up the fight.
His tongue sweeps against mine and I make a soft, involuntary whimper that betrays just how far gone I am.
Liam groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my mouth, against my ribs, against every part of me that has been starving for him.
When we finally break apart, it’s only because we have to.
We’re both breathing hard, hands still tangled up in each other. Neither of us speaks. Because there are no words big enough for whatever just cracked wide open between us.
“You’re a good student, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with something dangerous. “But I think we can do better.”
His words are barely out before I rise to the challenge.
I crash into him the same moment his mouth claims mine. It’s hungry, wild, and unstoppable. Our tongues collide, not soft and tentative like before, but desperate, like we’re fighting a battle we both know we’re about to lose.
His hands grip my waist, pulling me into him like he can't stand even an inch of distance. My fingers tangle in the damp fabric of his shirt, clutching him closer, needing everything.
I gasp into his mouth when his hand slides under the hem of my shirt, calloused fingers skimming up the soft, sensitive skin of my side. His thumb brushes the fleshy curve just above my hip, slow and deliberate, sending a hot shiver tearing through me. I feel the roughness of his palm, the warmth of his skin against mine, and it’s like being set on fire from the inside out.
He groans softly, the sound rumbling against my chest, and deepens the kiss, tilting my head, molding my mouth to his, taking what he wants like he's been starving for it. I meet him with everything I have. All the years of wanting, all the nights of pretending, all the aching, bone-deep hope that maybe this isn't one-sided. His other hand slides up my back, finding the base of my neck, cradling me there as if I’m something precious even while he’s devouring me whole.
And God help me I never want him to stop.
“Knock, knock,” Charlie’s voice floats down the hallway, bright and cheerful. “Liam? Olive? You guys here?”
We tear apart so fast that the desk shudders and papers flutter to the ground like startled birds. I stumble back, hand flying to my mouth. My lips feel swollen and are tingling, and God, I never want to forget the way his mouth felt on mine.
Liam’s chest is rising and falling like he just ran a sprint, his eyes still dark with everything we didn’t get to finish. He runsa hand through his hair, ruffling it further, then shoots me a wicked grin.
“Fucking bad timing,” he mutters under his breath, tossing me a wink that does nothing to cool the fire he started.
I snort before I can help it, half laughing, half trying to pull myself together. And even though we were nearly busted, I still want to kiss him again.
Charlie calls out again, her voice closer this time. I clear my throat, forcing my voice into something resembling normal.
“We’re in the office!” I call out.
Liam leans down to scoop up the papers, brushing close enough that I can still feel the heat radiating off him.
As I turn toward the door, smoothing my shirt and pretending I’m totally fine, I catch his smirk out of the corner of my eye and the way his gaze lingers, hungry and possessive.
Practice, I remind myself weakly.
Just practice. But even in my own head, it sounds like a lie.
Charlie rounds the corner. Her face lights up with excitement when she sees me.
Charlie is blonde, curvy, and her baby bump is showing. She’s totally not who I’d imagine Sam Stone ending up with, which kind of makes her perfect.
“Sam said there’s a surprise for me out in the barn,” she says, practically bouncing on her toes. “I have a feeling I know what it is, and I couldn’t wait another second to get over here.”
I grin, feeling a little thrill of happiness for her. “I think you’re going to love it.”
