Page 27 of Aim Assist

I press my cool fingers to my heated face and will myself not to combust before I see him. The last thing I need is to show up at the bar looking like I've already had a few too many.

The elevator slows and my stomach flips. This is it. I take one more fortifying breath as the doors slide open. You can do this. Be cool.

I step out, my favorite pair of fuck-me heels (every girl has them, don't even judge me) sinking into the plush carpet.

The hotel bar is to the left, and it's packed. People spill out into the lobby, and it looks like standing room only in that bitch. Holy shit. How many people around here can afford overpriced drinks at a ritzy hotel?

Willing myself not to trip like an idiot, I take the mincing steps required of my bodycon skirt, taking solace in the fact that I might walk with the speed of a snail, but my hips wiggle with the best of them.

Warm, firm hands slide around my waist from behind, pulling me back against a solid chest. I'd know that clean, spicy scent anywhere.

"Hello, angel," Liam murmurs, his words tickling my ear. Goosebumps prickle my skin.

"Liam." His name comes out on a soft breath. "I thought we were meeting at the bar."

"The bar's five feet away, but I couldn't wait that long to see you." His hands splay across my stomach, his touch searing through the thin fabric of my dress. "Besides, I figured I'd rescue you from having to wade through that crowd in those sexy heels."

I laugh, but it comes out more like a gasp when he nips at my earlobe. "How chivalrous of you."

"I'm a regular knight in shining armor." He presses a kiss to the side of my neck and I tilt my head, giving him better access. "You look stunning, by the way. Good enough to eat. I can't think of anything else. Fuck, you smell good."

I turn in his arms, my hands sliding up his chest to link behind his neck. He's wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tanned forearms. The color makes his blue eyes pop, bringing out that hint of green. "You don't look so bad yourself."

His hands skim down my sides to settle on my hips, his thumbs rubbing distracting circles that make me shiver. "What do you say we get out of here? Go somewhere a little more private?"

Warning bells go off in my head. We don't know each other. This is supposed to be nothing more than drinks. But my body is practically vibrating with need, every nerve ending alight from his touch.

I search his face, trying to find some hint that this is more than physical for him. That I'm not another hookup. But his expression gives nothing away, his eyes dark with desire.

"I was promised drinks," I say, instead of saying let's go to my room, like I want. Like my vagina wants, weeping when I go for the safer route.

He leans forward until our foreheads touch, and this close, I can smell spearmint. He brushed his teeth.

"I did. I did promise a drink. Damn. I'm going insane every time I see you. Does this dress even count as clothing?"

I glance down at my dress, confused by Liam's reaction. Sure, it's form-fitting, but it's not like my tits are hanging out. I've worn way more scandalous outfits on stream.

"It isn't as bad as some," I argue, smoothing my hands over my skirt self-consciously.

Liam groans, his fingers flexing against my waist. "I'm imagining every inch of skin under there. That's it. I'm going to hell."

Heat floods my face at his words, desire pooling low in my belly. "You're not going to hell for finding me attractive."

"No, I'm going to hell for all the filthy things I want to do to you." His voice is a low rumble that I feel in my bones. "I want to worship every curve, taste every freckle. I want to make you come apart in my hands, in my mouth. I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own name."

My breath catches. Every single, unholy word drives desire straight home into the sensitive little place between my legs.

Did I think he was a perfect gentleman?

Holy shit. No one has ever talked to me like this before. I'm used to juvenile come-ons and crass suggestions, not this sensual seduction that has me ready to beg him to take me against the nearest wall.

"Liam..." It comes out as a needy whimper, and I don't care.

His lips brush the shell of my ear. "Tell me you want me, angel. Tell me I'm not alone in this."

"I want you." The words tumble out, raw and honest. "I've never wanted anyone more."

He makes a low noise that might be a growl before his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding. I melt into him, into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me, consuming me.

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