With much tossing and turning, I accept the fact that I’m not going to go back to sleep, so I pull off the covers, sit up and swivel myself around so that I’m now seated on the edge of the bed. I reach for my pants and climb into them, then secure the button and raise the zipper. I move over to the window and pull open the curtains, allowing the sun’s morning rays to shine into the bedroom before I head to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and splash some water over my face, then run my damp fingers through my hair. After brushing my teeth, I grab my phone then quietly make my way downstairs to the kitchen where I make myself a much-needed coffee. After filling my mug with the hot liquid, I curl my fingers around it, then spin around so that my ass is pressed against the counter, and I scroll through my phone. Monica has already uploaded several images of last night’s Christmas party on her Facebook page.
I scroll through the images as I sip on my coffee, and then one of the images catches my attention and has me zooming in. It’s a photo of Liam and me on the dance floor, where he has his body pressed hard up against mine, looking as though he’s fucking me. I double tap on the photo, giving me a close-up of his face and I can tell from the expression on his face that he’s rather enjoying himself. I zoom in on his face as much as I can and my mind wanders to several, delicious positions in which Liam is fucking me. I close my eyes, allowing myself to be taken in by the thoughts, and I find myself trapped in the moment. Hiseyes, those sensual lips, that delicious, decadent body, covered in silky smooth abs, and manly hands that I would love to have wrapped around my waist as he pounds me from behind. In all the years I’ve known Liam, I’ve never once seen him completely naked, only down to his boxer briefs. And from what I’ve seen through the outline of his clothing, I’m sure whatever is down there, wouldn’t disappoint.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
The familiar deep baritone quickly pulls me out of my fantasy and I open my eyes to see Liam standing at the entrance to the kitchen, still dressed in his clothes from last night. His shirt is untucked and his pants are sitting just below his hips and his hair is all frizzy. But damn, he looks fucking gorgeous.
“Someone had to make sure you got to bed safely,” I say.
“What time is it?” he asks, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.
I do a quick check of the time on the microwave. “8 a.m.,” I reply.
“Ewww, why the hell are you awake so early?” he asks, stumbling into the kitchen.
“I couldn’t really sleep. You know what it’s like not being able to sleep when you’re not in your own bed and all.”
He slowly but steadily walks closer toward me. “Oh, coffee, great, thank you,” he says, snatching the mug of coffee from my hand.
“Sure …no problem. I’ll just make myself another one then, shall I?”
He brings the mug close to his lips and his eyes stare at me from the top of the mug, and as he brings it closer to his lips he says, “Sorry,” before taking a sip.
After pouring myself another coffee, I move toward the living room and take a seat on the couch. Liam follows behind me and then takes a seat on one of the armchairs by the fireplace.
“What the hell happened last night?” he asks.
“You don’t remember?”
He shakes his head. “No, not really. I remember picking you up from your place and driving to the venue. Then going straight to the bar. Oh, that’s right, I also remember you being a total asshole when I told you I was headed to the bar.”
“Asshole?” I inquire.
“Yeah. If my memory serves me correctly, and it usually does…”
He takes another sip of his coffee and I can see that he’s trying to concentrate.
“Except when you’re drunk or hungover,” I tell him.
“I’m not drunk. Although, I wouldn’t be so sure on the hungover part. But I do remember you saying, and I quote, ‘Like I give a shit,’ when I announced I was headed toward the bar.”
“What’s your point?” I ask.
“My point is you were being an asshole.”
“A comment like that makes me an asshole?”
“Ah, huh,” he says, taking another sip of the coffee.
“Okay. If you say so.”
I know not to read into anything he’s saying right now. This is how Liam is whenever he wakes up after a long night of partying and drinking. Most times he’ll say a lot of hurtful and disrespectful things to me and even drop the C bomb, but I just ignore him because I know it’s the alcohol clogging his brain.
“Do you remember anything else?” I ask him.
“Um … no. Not really. Should I?”
I stare at him for a few long seconds, raising my eyebrows but not saying a single word, and when he doesn’t say anything, I just raise the mug of coffee to my lips and take another sip.
