Page 11 of Not That Impossible

If it was from anyone other than Liam, I’d say it was…sexual?

Of course, that made me preen. Subtly. But, yeah. I preened for him.

Only for him.

I cocked a hip, smiled, and rolled my shoulders back. When he didn’t even blink, I took hold of the ends of the hair towel around my neck, and let my biceps do their thing.

Liam’s jaw tightened. His eyes snapped back to my face and narrowed.

I laughed nervously, letting go of the towel. “Okay,” I said. “What?”

“Nothing,” he barked.

“Huh?”

He looked confused for a second, then said, “No.”

Whaaaat was happening? “No? No what?”

“Just…no.”

“Right.”

We stared at each other for another thirty uncomfortable seconds. Rain pattered down.

“Okay,” I said, an odd sense of disappointment descending. “So…um. I should probably go and get dressed?” I clenched the towel where it was knotted at my waist.

Liam glared at the towel. He glared at my abs, which tensed under the attention. He glared back at the towel. Then he said, “Fuck it.”

“Wha—oh my god.”

He stepped in, muscling me backward into my hall, slammed the door shut behind him, and grabbed the back of my neck, yanking me forward. My body collided with his. His coat was cold and wet against me, and I didn’t even care.

“I am kissing you,” he announced.

I waited eagerly, but… “No, you’re not,” I said.

He puffed air through his nose like an angry bull, and leaned in so close I felt it against my face. He still didn’t kiss me. “Do you want it?”

“What? Are you kidding me?” Was hekiddingme? “Are you seriously asking me that? Obviously I want you to kiss me. Obvious—mmph.”

Oh my god.

He did it.

He was doing it.

Liam Nash was kissing me.

And I have to say, he wasn’t being gentle about it. Thank god.

He walked me backward, his lips firm and demanding on mine.

I gasped when my back hit the door. He opened my mouth with his, and his tongue glided against mine with a sinuous twist that dragged a whimper out of me.

My hands flew up and I unzipped his wet coat, shoving it open and grabbing his sides, dragging his warm body against me. I pushed at his shoulders, trying to get the coat the rest of the way off, seeking more contact. He shrugged impatiently and the coat hit the floor. I threaded my hands into his damp hair, gripping and pulling him closer.

He angled his head, licking slow and deep. If he hadn’t already wedged a thigh between my legs, my knees would have given out and I’d have hit the floor as sensation streaked through me and turned me into an overcooked noodle.

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