"Five days of sitting three feet away from you in the locker room and pretending I don't want to—" He stopped, thoughts running through his mind. "I'm done being careful."
"That's not—"
He kissed me.
No warning. Just his hand on the back of my neck and his mouth on mine and the shock of his body—wet, hot, hard—pressing against me. The water between us. He pushed my against the tile wall. It was cold against my back while his body was burning hot against my front.
I should have stopped it. Should have put my hands on his chest and pushed and saidnot here, not now, not where anyone could walk in.
But his tongue was in my mouth and his hand was on my hip and his cock was pressed against my thigh and my body had already made its decision. Same way it had in the closet. Same way it had in his dorm. My body chose him every time, and my brain was always three steps behind.
I kissed him back. Hard. My hands finding his neck, pulling him closer.
"That's what I thought," he murmured against my lips.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
I bit his lower lip. He groaned—low, the sound vibrating through both of us.
"Quiet," I whispered. "Walls echo."
"Then we better be quick."
His mouth moved to my neck. The spot below my ear that he'd found a week ago and never forgotten. His teeth scraped and my hips jerked forward involuntarily, my cock pressing against his.
"Fuck," I breathed.
"There he is." I could feel him smiling against my skin. "Knew you were in there somewhere."
"I hate you."
"No you don't." His hand slid down my chest. My stomach. Lower. His fingers trailing through the hair below my navel and then wrapping around me—firm, sure, his grip tightening in a way that made my vision blur.
"Liam—"
"I thought about this all night," he said against my ear. His hand stroking me slow. "After you cut me off. Lay in bed thinking about exactly this."
"You're—that's—"
I could barely answer. Couldn't think. His hand was on me and his mouth was on my neck and the water was running over both of us and every nerve in my body was firing.
"Tell me what you want," he whispered.
"You. Just — you."
He kissed me again. Deep. Then pulled back. His eyes on mine.
"Get on your knees," he said. Not a question.
Something detonated in my stomach. I dropped.
The tile was hard and wet. I didn't care. Liam was above me, water streaming over his shoulders, looking down at me. His cock was right there—thick, hard, a bead of pre-cum mixing with the water at his tip.
I wrapped both my hands around him. Stroked once, licked the pre-cum from his tip, and watched his face change—eyes going unfocused, mouth falling open.
"Alex—"
