Leaning back casually in his chair, smiling easily as he tells Teddy all about our last trip to the NFR in Vegas.
“You should've seen Olive,” he says, voice smooth as sin. “Wrangled two drunk bronc riders out of a bar fight without even breaking a sweat.”
Teddy laughs heartily, clapping the table.
Meanwhile, Liam’s fingers slip under the damp edge of my panties, finding the slick heat waiting for him. I barely swallow a gasp, my thighs trembling. He presses in slow, maddening circles, every stroke lighting up my nerve endings like a live wire.
And then he rubs. Gentle. Cruel. Perfect. I can feel myself unraveling under the table, every nerve strung painfully tight.
I have two choices. I can shove his hand away and pretend I still have any pride left. Or I can give in.
I choose option two.
Slowly, carefully, I part my thighs, giving him better access.
I force myself to pick up my fork again, pretending to take a bite of salad as if I’m not two seconds from moaning out loud.
Liam’s gaze flicks to mine. And when he sees the choice I’ve made? His eyes darken as a slow, wicked smile curves his mouth.
Teddy keeps talking, oblivious to the war raging under the table.
Meanwhile, Liam’s fingers stroke slow, merciless patterns over me, each pass grazing my clit just enough to make my thighs quiver, but not enough to push me over. It’s torture. Beautiful, wicked torture. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to nod and hum at all the right moments, even as Liam’s fingers slip a little lower, gathering the slick proof of how easily he’s wrecking me.
He rubs it back up in slow, devastating circles, pressing harder now, dragging tight spirals that make my breath catch so hard Teddy actually glances at me.
“You alright, Olive?” he asks, frowning slightly.
I clear my throat, plastering on what I hope is a normal smile.
“Just—just a tickle in my throat,” I rasp, my voice a full octave higher than usual.
Teddy nods and turns back to his story, mercifully letting it go.
But Liam? Liam leans in under the guise of topping off my wine glass.
And as he does, he murmurs in my ear, “Good girl.”
My entire body jolts, a shudder ripping down my spine so hard I almost knock over my glass.
His fingers move faster now, rubbing tighter, harder circles against my clit that are relentless and devastating.
The edge rushes up fast, brutal and impossible to deny.
I bite my cheek so hard I taste blood, every muscle in my body clenching as I fight to keep from giving myself away.
Liam strokes me faster, coaxing, demanding.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
My vision blurs.
And then I break.
I clamp my thighs around his hand, body locking up as the orgasm crashes over me in endless, shaking waves.
I can't move.
Can't breathe.
