Page 82 of Devilish Ink

I’d had plenty of times alone with Rian. But I was afraid once I started speaking it would all come crashing down.

I noticed after several minutes lost in thought that Liam was smiling at me.

“Most importantly,” he said, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for us to ever get up from this couch.”

I squirmed against him with a gleeful giggle. Felt the outline of his erection straining against his jeans on my thigh.

Our eyes locked and I knew: we were avoiding reality. We were falling back in ourselves, indulging ourselves in the lie that it was just the two of us. No one else.

It was a temptation we fell for time and time again. There on the couch was no different. The smell of engine oil on Liam’s coat. The strength of his arm around the small of my back, sliding down to my ass beneath the waistline of my miniskirt. The circling of his thumb over my hardening nipple under my cropped black sweater.

The front door to my new apartment was still open. The March air was blowing in up the stairs from the lobby door we’d wedged open, icy on the skin Liam was exposing with prowling hands. But I didn’t care.

It was warm against Liam.

“Ry!” I went rigid when a familiar voice called from the stairwell, “How many more flights is it? I’m dying here!”

Liam’s eyes were saucers on mine.

It was Rian.

RY

“It’s Rian!” I hissed. “Hide!”

I tried to ignore the disappointed look Liam gave me as leapt off the couch, my heart pounding. This wasnotthe right time.

I tried a casual laugh as I pulled back down my sweater and shouted out the open door, “Conor would be taking the stairs two at a time.”

Liam had just enough time to dart around the corner into the kitchen when Rian appeared at the top of the stairs. I straightened the pleats of my skirt as he collapsed over a tall stack of brown boxes.

“Insulting my masculinity,” Rian said breathlessly, grinning up at me. “Thanks.”

“I’m here to make sure your ego doesn’t get too big.”

Rian propped up his chin with his hand. “You know, I’m very secure in my manhood. And I don’t define myself by the size of my muscles, but rather the size of my—”

“Brain?” I finished for him.

“Artistic talent.” He grinned. “Obviously.”

I laughed and went over to help him up.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I kissed his cheek, hoping my voice didn’t jump an octave or two. “You surprised me.”

“But a pleasant one, right?”

I forced myself to nod and glanced toward the kitchen where I could see Liam peering out at us.

Goddamn. If Rian decided he wanted a glass of water, we were fucked.

“You really should have called before. I’ve not set everything up yet. I mean,” I snuck another look at the kitchen, “I can’t even offer you a drink because the glasses haven’t been unpacked.”

“Which is why I’m here, silly.”

“What?”

“Ry,” Rian said, gripping my shoulder, “you’ve done so much for me. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay you. When you insisted on moving out of my apartment, even when I begged you to stay… I mean, helping a friend move is seriously the absolute least I could do.”

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