Page 60 of The Summer I Destroyed You

I should hate that too, but my mouth curves instead. “Good morning, yard boy.”

He meets me at the stairs, his broad hand grasping the rail, one foot casually resting on the bottom step. “Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. It’s not like you to take an accusation of jealousy lying down.”

I smile and walk down the steps until I reach the second from the bottom, which puts my mouth a millimeter from his. “Liam, I was already lying down. With my legs spread wide, thinking about the way you fucked me in the office. I guess I was too distracted to reply.”

And with that, I turn and walk back into the house. He’s silent, but I swear to God I heard him gulp.

* * *

I meet with the mayor to show him the plans for the park and am nearly back to the store when I spy Liam across the street, talking to the kind of guy I would have said was my ideal before Liam: tall, hot, dark hair, nice suit.

Now, for some reason, I only seem to want Liam in his worn Levi’s and boots. I’m sure I’ll get over it, but it’s highly inconvenient when I need to be distancing myself.

I keep moving toward the store, and Liam jogs across the street to catch me. That he’s still thinking about what I said this morning is written all over his face. It’s as if no time has elapsed at all, except now I can’t simply saunter away without him following me.

I’m not sure I want to saunter away anyhow. I’m pretty sure I’ll implode if I don’t get a repeat of the other night somehow.

“Who was your hot friend?” I ask, nodding at the guy across the street.

He raises a brow. “Are you trying to make me jealous, Em? Jealous the way you were last night?”

Yes.

“Not at all. But I’ve got a couple more weeks in town, and I have some unmet needs.”

We enter the store. I keep walking to my office and he follows, as if this was our plan all along. A shiver moves down my spine.

“I’m not sure what you’re doing,” I say as I walk into my office. “But I don’t have a lot of time.”

The door clicks shut behind me.

“Fuck it,” he says, and without warning, his hands are on my hips and he’s spinning me so that my back is against the closed door.

Yes.

He’s already hard when his mouth lands on mine. The rasp of his jaw abrades my skin, one hand squeezing my hip, his fingers digging into my ass, while the other one palms my breast.

“You’ve got plenty of time,” he says against my ear, pinching my nipple hard.

A soft sigh escapes me. “I have a little time.”

He falls to his knees, pushing the skirt up before he slides a finger between my legs.

“Admit you were jealous last night,” he demands.

My eyes fall closed as my hands press flat to the door behind me. “I was…irritated.”

“By jealousy.”

He leans close, tugging the panties to the side.

And then his tongue sweeps over me.

“Oh. God.”

He pushes two fingers inside me, hard and unexpected. My knees wobble and I grab his shoulders to stay upright. “Just admit it, Em,” he croons. His hot breath ghosts over my clit, a tease I can barely stand not to give in to.

“You talk too much,” I whisper, running my hand through his hair. I feel the gust of his laughter against my core, but nothing beyond it. “Fine. I was jealous.”

---