Page 47 of Something Forever

When we get back to the apartment, it’s silent. We didn’t speak the entire Uber ride home, both of us crowded into opposite corners in the backseat. I pressed my head against the window, watching the passing cars and pedestrians outside and trying to come up with something to say to Liam.

I’ve got absolutely nothing.

I blame the tequila.

The door slams behind us, the sound reverberating in the quiet, dark room. I stumble into the kitchen, keeping my back to Liam while I pour myself a glass of water. Leaning against the counter, I drink the whole thing, keeping my gaze trained on the fridge. I can’t bring myself to turn around. To see the regret that must be settling over his features.

Just get it over with. Rip the band-aid off.

I’m ready to do just that when I feel it. The barely-there brush of Liam’s hand against the nape of my neck, pulling my hair to one side. He presses his lips to the side of my neck, peppering soft kisses against me. I gasp at the contact and swallow a loud gulp. He stops his movements when he hears me, resting his head against my shoulder and bringing one hand to my hip, to that same spot he was touching in the club. The spot that seems to burn me from the inside out.

“What are we doing?” he groans against me.

I have no idea.

All I know is that I don’t want to stop, even knowing what a mistake this is.

“I don’t know,” I whisper into the dark room.

He brushes his thumb against my hip, sending another flutter through me. That tiny movement, that single brush of his thumb, and clarity washes through me. I turn, pulling back slightly as he lifts his head to look at me.

“Just once,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows in question, and my eyes flicker back and forth between his.

“You’re drunk,” he replies, shaking his head.

“Barely,” I retort. “I promise. Just one time to get it out of our system. Okay?”

His brow furrows further, and he looks almost disappointed by my response. But isn’t this what he wants? I can’t be reading him wrong. He wants me as much as I want him. I know it. In fact, I can feel it against my thigh.

Finally, he nods in agreement. “Just once,” he agrees, but he still hesitates, looking conflicted.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“It’s just… been a while. I haven’t… since before Luke, I mean,” he admits, biting his bottom lip. The unsure expression on his face sends a pang of affection through me, and I bring my hand up to his cheek, cupping it softly.

“We can stop whenever you want to,” I say shakily, not trusting my voice.

“I think once we start, I won’t be able to stop,” he replies.

His lips are on mine again, and this time, I’ve thrown any pretense of shyness out the window. I grind against him, pressing our bodies as close together as possible. He catches on quickly, wrapping his hands around my thighs and lifting me onto the kitchen counter. I wrap my legs around him, straddling him as he moves his hands up my thighs, bunching my dress up to my hips. He pulls away from my kiss and hooks his hands around my panties.

“May I?” he asks, and I nod fervently, lifting myself up and shimmying to try to help him.

He halts me, shaking his head slightly. “Slow down. I want to take my time with you,” his husky voice drawls out.

He drags my thong down my legs slowly, like I’m a gift that he’s unwrapping layer by layer. He tosses them to the side, and I watch them land on the floor.

“Should we… get out of the kitchen? Go to my room?” I ask.

He shakes his head, his gaze focused on where I’m now bare for him to see. Slowly, so goddamn slowly, he moves his hands down my thighs and spreads my legs.

“Not yet. I haven’t eaten, and I’m starved.”

Oh my God.

I have no time to process before he drops down to his knees and drags me to the edge of the counter. Holy fuck, he looks so hot on his knees in front of me. I can’t help but buck my hips slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flicker up to me, a smirk spreading across his face.

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