Page 12 of Persuading Liam

Miserable, I strip out of my clothes and head to the bathroom for a hot shower in the hopes that it will clear my head enough that I can breathe properly.

As the hot water sluices down my body, I stare at Liam’s hygiene products and let my mind wander to the fact that he showers in here, too. That he’s often naked in this very same space. That he…“Shit,” I bite out when I realize my nipples are hard thinking about him. I can’t think about him like that. I’m too busy. My job is too complicated, and there’s too much on my plate to even consider kissing him.

Or his abs.

Dammit, Marley. With angry motions, I finish my shower and twist off the faucet. I wrap one towel, around my hair and fold it back and one around me that barely closes below where it meets at my armpit.

It doesn’t matter though, Liam is at work and it’s not a long walk to my room.

Except when I open the bathroom door, Liam is standing right there. He freezes when he sees me and I swear every atom in his body tenses. Even the hair of his beard seems to have stilled somehow.

"Oh my God," I squeak, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were home.”

He looks away and focuses his gaze on the door handle to his bedroom as if it is a super complicated puzzle. “No worries.”

Except when I get into my room I have about a thousand worries, all of which have to do with how tempted I was to dropmy towel and invite him to help me dry off. God, why am I so horny? I’ve gone well over a year with just a vibrator without any trouble. Why is it this bearded, picky stick in the mud that suddenly makes me feel like I will combust if I don’t feel his hands on me?

I chalk it up to the fact that he’s the nearest thing and therefore a reasonable place for my desire to flow. But as I pull on my clothes, something in the back of my brain tells me otherwise.

“Morning,”Liam greets me the next morning when he comes back from his run. I’ve only made it as far as the couch and I feel like the world is spinning. That infection I suspected yesterday is upon me in full force and I croak when I reply.

“Morning. How was your run?”

He stops his forward progress and looks at me. “You okay? You sound like you have a cold.”

I wave my hand in the air as if it’s normal for me to sound like I’ve smoked a pack a day since I was three. “I’m fine. I think the mold and dirt at the Post irritated my sinuses.”

His adorable face creases with concern and I inhale sharply when he moves toward me and presses a hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up.”

I lean into his touch just a little bit. I know he’s feeling for a fever, but I can’t lie, having his fingers against me is magical. “I’m fine.”

“Give me a minute,” he tells me and I watch his very tight rear end as he makes his way to the bathroom and reappears with a thermometer.

“Where was that?” I ask as he pushes buttons on it.

“In the medicine cabinet,” he answers, “You know, where medical things are kept.”

“Oh,” I say as he waits for it to beep.

“Open up.”

Why do my thoughts automatically take me to dirty places, i.e., him telling me to open up for his cock?I shake it away and open my mouth.

He pops it in there and waits over me until it beeps again.

I reach for it, but he gets there first. “One-hundred-one. You need to get some aspirin and rest. No work today, don’t leave the apartment. I’ll grab some soup and 7-Up while I’m out. Is there anything else you think you might need or want?”

“Um,” I can feel myself blush, even through my fever, because he’s being so nice and he looks genuinely concerned about my well-being. “Maybe some Nyquil.”

He nods. “Done. I’ll run to the corner store before I head to work.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do,” he answers gently. “You’re sick. That’s what people do.”

My stomach does a little flip that has nothing to do with his abs or his cock for once. “At least let me Venmo you.”

“Marley,” he says in a voice that sends a wake of excitement through me. “Just let me do this, okay?”

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