I looked over my shoulder at him to see his gaze scanning the living room. “What does that mean?” I asked.
Liam shrugged, still looking all around. “It looks like you. All the books. All the color.” He gestured around the room which was, admittedly, pretty bright. A turquoise couch sat in the middle of the space, two floral patterned chairs on either side. All three pieces of furniture were adorned with cozy throw blankets and pillows in yellow, pink, and green. What could I say? I liked happy colors.
“God, you’re gorgeous when you blush,” he murmured, his voice practically a whisper in the still silence of my house.
“I’m not,” I said, holding my palms to the burning skin. “If my cheeks are as red as my hair I just look like a giant tomato.”
He took a step closer to me, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “I guess it’s a good thing I find tomatoes so attractive.”
I burst out laughing. He was so?—
Then his mouth swooped down on me, catching me mid-laugh, and I completely forgot what I’d been thinking. I forgot everything—where I was, why I’d been laughing. Hell, I forgot my damn name.
“You’re so good at that,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Good at what?” he asked, running his lips lightly across my cheek, down to my jaw and then beyond, brushing over the sensitive skin of my neck, making me shiver.
“That,” I gasped. “The kissing.”
He looked up, eyes glinting with both mirth and lust. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to show you how good my kisses can be.”
Oh, God. Just like that, the rasp of his confident, wicked voice in my ear, and I was done for. My entire body seemed to burst into flames, achy need settling deep in my center. And still Liam continued to torture me with the gentle, teasing kisses across my neck and jaw. I wanted more. I wantedeverything.
Thank God Liam seemed to be on the same page. His arms came up around me, pulling me close, and I melted against his chest as our lips met once more. I could kiss this man all night.
When I felt the coaxing press of his tongue against my lips, I couldn’t hold in the moan. He took advantage of the brief opening of my mouth to slide his tongue inside, the hot sweep of it against my own making my knees weak.
Liam’s wicked tongue was greedy, tangling with mine, and so were his hands as they ran up and down over my sides, my back. My skin erupted in goosebumps everywhere those huge, warm palms touched me and I couldn’t help but shiver when his fingers made their way up to the sensitive skin of my neck.
“I love it when you wear your hair up,” he murmured into my mouth, dragging his fingertips up and down over my nape. “Can’t tell you how many times I sat there in my kitchen while you were explaining some equation, aching and hard, wondering what it would feel like to taste the skin right here on your neck.”
I was reeling from his words, from the idea that I had ever made him hard during those study sessions, that I had ever affected him at all. But then his lips drifted over to my earlobe, which he nipped gently with his teeth, and I gasped. As he moved back to my neck, he pressed open mouthed kisses along my skin, his mouth and his tongue so hot and wet. I was having trouble breathing, having trouble standing up. I was pretty sure my legs were about three seconds away from going on strike and sending me into an honest-to-god swoon right there on my living room floor.
As if sensing how unsteady he was making me, Liam’s hands tightened on my waist, supporting me. My breasts had become heavy and aching and I pressed myself closer to him, hands clutching at his shoulders. He moaned at the contact as my breasts pressed against his chest and the sound sent a shot of crazy lust straight to my core.
Before I realized what was happening, Liam had hoisted me up off the floor, lifting me easily as he strode towards the couch. He sat, settling me on his lap, never once moving his lips from their assault on my neck.
“You feel so good, Gracie,” he rasped out against my skin. “I need you closer, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Every time he said that to me it lit up a hidden corner of my heart. There was so much tenderness in his voice, so much adoration. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that this was happening, that I was the woman he was calling sweetheart as he pressed his hungry lips against me.
“Please,” I whispered, not even knowing what I was begging for, only knowing that I needed more. “Please, Liam.”
Apparently, Liam knew exactly what I was asking for, even if I didn’t. His fingers found the hem of my shirt and he finally moved away from my neck long enough to meet my eyes, a question in his gaze.Is this okay?I nodded and he immediately had the soft material up and over my head.
I am shirtless on my couch in Liam O’Conner’s lap. Holy shit.
I was distracted from the unlikeliness of that revelation when I caught sight of his face. Liam was staring at my chest, eyes wide and hungry, something like awe in his expression.
“You’re so beautiful.” His fingertips ran over the swells of my breasts, just above the lace of my bra, so gentle, almost reverently. He swallowed, his voice suddenly thick. “Gracie, I…”
I felt a rush of tenderness for him. He seemed so overwhelmed in that moment, and his vulnerability chased away any possible insecurity about being half-naked in the arms of the most attractive man I’d ever known. I reached for his face, tilting his chin up to look at me. The emotion in his eyes made my core clench, the need and anticipation I was feeling reflected right back at me.
It was that expression that had me reaching behind my back, making me feel bold and self-assured as I unclasped my bra, letting the straps fall away from my shoulders. Liam groaned again as he brought his face down to my chest, nosing along my collarbone before taking one already hardened nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck,” I gasped, clutching at the sides of his head. He made an approving sound deep in his chest, the vibration against my sensitive peak making my breath catch. “Liam.”
He sucked the tip harder into his mouth, his hand landing on my other breast, kneading the flesh. It felt amazing, my entire body on fire for him, but it still wasn’t enough. I needed to feel his skin against mine, needed to touch him. I tugged on his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but he refused to move from my breast.
