“Okay,” he says without pause. He sits up to get ready, aware that my requests for food must be satisfied with haste. “What are you feeling?”
“Your favorite place.”
“I have about six of those.”
“Then take me to the one with the best bennies.”
He cracks a grin. “I got you.”
Carefully, he holds the covers around his waist while he scans the floor for something. He finds a pair of underwear and slips them on beneath the shield of sheets. His modesty is precious considering what we did a cool six hours ago. The switch-up between when he’s humping me and when he’s hanging with me is the most entertainingphenomenon to witness.
The flutter between my thighs is probably a spasm, but it feels like a purr.
“Want to shower then go?”
I sit up, excited by the proposition. “Sure.”
“You can go first.”
“First? Why not simultaneously?” I wriggle my eyebrows at him.
His cheeks get pinker. “Okay.”
~
Liem outdid himself. Or maybe Seattle does it for me. We went to five different museums—art, science, glass sculptures—but the winner by far was the Museum of Pop Culture near the Space Needle. We got lost in there for over two hours, me obsessing over the wild differences between each of the sections. Music history, costume design, nerdy entertainment in each genre—fantasy, sci-fi, horror. It was so cool to see it all come together in one place and to see locals enjoying it as much as tourists.
Rain is bad enough, but this drizzle shit is next level, especially since no one uses a damn umbrella. I feel like I’m getting gaslighted by the locals. A bunch of Patagonia-covered liars.
“Next time I come up here, I’m getting braids,” I remark while we wait for the elevator back up to his apartment. Hisdeluxe apartment in the sky. While my curls aren’t happy, at least I had enough edge gel to convert them into a passable ponytail.
I glance over, finding the sweetest smile on Liem’s face. My words meant something big to him, and it was barely a thought. Even if we only see each other once a year, it would be worth it.
The lobby is cold, my thin sweater not doing much to block out the chill without a rain jacket. “My nips are nipping.”
We share a light laugh, the comfort of Liem being a friend, not atypical male who thinks everything is an invitation for sex. Not that I’d be opposed. He looks at me—not my visible nipples—and holds my gaze until, for a brief moment, his eyes flicker down to my lips.
“Here.” He lifts the hem of his hoodie and pulls it off.
“You’re going to give me your statement piece? How will you survive?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want your areolas to beyourstatement piece?” He helps me put it on. The lightweight material feels cool, like workout wear rather than college attire. Unfortunately, it hangs to my thighs.
“Now that I see it, this is a lewk,” I remark jokingly.
“Everything looks good on you.”
“BecauseIlook good?”
His smirk answers my question.
In the elevator, the air crackles, the water turning to steam against my hot skin. I want him. I want what we had last night. I wantmorethan what we had last night. The other passengers step off on their floor, and a minute seems to pass while I wait for the doors to close and give us privacy.
“Liem—” I can’t finish my sentence before his lips crash against mine.
If the passion behind his kiss tells me anything, it’s that I won’t be wearing his hoodie for much longer.
We stumble out of the elevator, the kiss never breaking. My back hits the door, Liem trying and failing to grab keys while still tongue-fucking my mouth and squeezing my ass. My pussy is hot and ready, impatiently waiting for him to turn this energy into fucking me.
