A muffled groan rolls up his throat.
“Are you hard right now?” I whisper. The alcohol warming my blood makes me bold. Gently, I rock my hips once, testing.
He grips my waist tight, holding me still. Barely a breath fills the space between us. His eyes, usually a bright, amber-tinted green, are dark and mossy, reminding me of the tall pine trees we used to play beneath as children. I would run from him, laughing, pretending I didn’t want to be caught but thrilled every time his arms circled around me in victory.
His thumbs brush the skin above the lace of my underwear—just once, but it’s enough to make my insides melt. My hips rock on instinct.
His grip tightens before he picks me up and dumps me onto the couch beside him in one swift movement. He flops his head onto the soft edge of the back of the couch. One arm drapes overhis forehead, causing the hem of his shirt to lift. A tiny spattering of hair on his stomach draws my attention down.
A thick outline bulges beneath his zipper.
“You are hard.” My heart hammers too fast, making my head feel light and the room spin… or it could have been the alcohol.
“I’ve been hard since I walked in on you.”
“With Kyle?”
“With Ally.” He groans. “My dick wouldn’t calm down. So I couldn’t leave the apartment.”
His confession makes my entire body vibrate with need.
I want to tell him to put his hands in my panties and feel my unspoken confession coat his fingers. but the gin controls my tongue now, and I can’t hold back the giggle bubbling up. “Did little Mr. Liam get excited to see Emily’s new underwear?”
Liam’s arm drops from his face and his nostrils flare. “It’s not little.”
A heaviness fills my breasts, and my nipples pinch into tight, aching points. I crawl onto my hands and knees and lean forward, my gaze dropping to the band of his jeans.
Liam's cock twitches in response, separating the denim from his pelvis. A hint of swollen purple skin pokes out.
Wow… A rush of warmth pools between my thighs, and the delicious ache I felt while he watched me touch myself is back. I need that release; my body craves it.
My body craves Liam.
“Em…” Liam’s voice is strained.
Something claws at the back of my thoughts, telling me to stop—we are just friends, but friends don’t watch other friends touch themselves.
The gin makes me bold.
I’m not boring.
I drop my hand to his thigh and look up.
Liam’s eyes flare and his lips part. His chest expands, and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He watches my fingers trace a path from the outside of his thigh inward.
What would it be like to touch him?
Liam and I have flirted over the years, but I’d never considered it to be more than just banter. Watching him watch me was more arousing than any time Kyle or any other boyfriend touched me.
My fingers trace a line closer to his zipper.
He grips my wrist gently. “Em…”
Our gazes meet, his eyes almost black.
Liam’s throat bobs, and his tongue pokes out, wetting his lips. A light sheen of moisture highlights the soft upward sweep of his mouth. I lean closer.
Will he taste like the gin coating my tongue or a unique, Liam-only flavor—intoxicating after one taste?
