“I do care about the flowers.”
“You really don’t.”
“Not about the flowers…”
“See, I told you so. You’re just trying to distract me.”
“So what if I am? It’s working.”
“No it’s not.” It was.
“Liar. That’s the third lie you’ve told since yesterday.”
My head whipped round Carrie-style to look at him. “You’re calling me a liar? You said you’d put the dishwasher on before we went to bed last night and it definitely hadn’t been on this morning. I hate getting home to a full dishwasher!”
“I hate getting out of bed when I’m comfortable. And I have a cleaner. She’ll empty it today or tomorrow.”
“Seriously,youhave a cleaner?” I was gobsmacked. “Doesn’t your house need to be tidied to have a cleaner? There’s nothing to tidy in your bedroom – it’s all covered in dirty clothes and wet towels!”
“Do you ever cut yourself with your own tongue?”
I glared at him, grabbed his hands and dug my nails into the flesh. It should’ve hurt, but I didn’t notice if it had or not because we were in the air.
I leaned in towards Liam’s ear. “If my tongue’s so sharp then I’ll stop giving you blow jobs. Wouldn’t want your precious cock to be cut, would we.”
He pulled his hand out from mine. I wondered if I’d drawn blood.
I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, starting to weave into my hair. Pulling ever so slightly and not in a painful way.
“Stop it, Liam.” I whispered the words.
“Admit that you lied about not being able to talk to Vanessa because I was too busy licking you out.” Thankfully he kept his words to a whisper.
“That doesn’t count as a lie.”
“You could’ve carried on talking to her. I thought women could multi-task…” He pulled through my hair and started to massage my scalp.
Much to his joy – and mine at the time – he’d discovered that having my scalp massaged or hair played with had an almost immediate effect on getting me wet.
“I didn’t think Van would appreciate the sounds of my orgasm.”
“You mean orgasms. I didn’t stop at one, if you remember. But given you have a selective memory, you’ve probably chosen to just remember the wet towels rather than your wet pussy.” He breathed the words into my ear.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” This would be the first time I’d ever left my seat while on a plane and I was sober. “You need to join me there.”
Liam laughed. Hard. “You haven’t joined the mile high club before, have you?”
“I’ve never travelled in a private jet before. I’m thinking you don’t want to slum it on here if you were used toonly the best.” I knew the words would taunt him.
He didn’t respond, not with words anyway. There was a kiss to my neck, a squeeze of my hair and then a nip. That was before he started to whisper, close enough so no one else would have any chance of hearing.
“Get to the bathroom, pull that skirt up and get rid of your knickers. Make sure you’re wet, because all I’m going to do is come in there and fuck you. Hard. But I bet you can’t be quiet.”
I was riled up enough with being infuriated with him to know I was likely to be dripping already. His words had just made sure of that. It was as if my body was conditioned to being ready for sex as soon as we started to argue. Although there had been enough times now when an argument wasn’t needed.
“I bet you’re louder than me.”
“For fuck’s sake. Fine. Whoever’s the quietest gets to choose the colour of the flowers.”
