Page 76 of Liam
I freeze, my heart pounding as I recognize the sound. My favorite pop band walks onto the stage, guitars in hand, tuning up.
“You didn’t,” I whisper. “You got them?”
Liam shrugs, but his grin widens. “I might have pulled a few strings.”
The music swells, washing over us, filling every corner of the space. It’s overwhelming in the best way—like a dream brought to life. My heart flutters, and I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the music take over, feeling the thrum of the bass in my chest, the perfect harmony of the instruments. The acoustics are pristine, the sound wrapping around us like a warm embrace.
“The sound quality is amazing.” My mind races with thoughts of waveforms and acoustics. “The way they’ve positioned the speakers—it’s a perfect balance between constructive and destructive interference. It’s genius how they’ve optimized the sound field to minimize phase cancellation, allowing the harmonics to—” I stop, realizing I’m rambling.
I glance up, half expecting him to be bored, but Liam’s watching me with a look that makes my stomach flip. There’s amusement in his eyes, but something deeper, too, something that sends a slow heat through my veins. He doesn’t interrupt, just listens.
“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks warming. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
His lips quirk into a smile, and he steps closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Never apologize for being brilliant.” He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms. “Now, how about we put those acoustics to the test with a dance?”
I stiffen. “I don’t know…”
“Nonsense,” Liam whispers, his hands sliding down to my waist, sending sparks of heat wherever he touches. “It’s just physics, right? Momentum, rhythm. You know all about that.”
His hands guide mine to his neck, our breath mingling as the music pulses around us. I hesitate for a beat, then give in, letting him pull me closer. The moment his fingers lace through mine, I relax into his embrace, my body melting against his.
The music surrounds us, a slow, intoxicating rhythm. His hand moves to the small of my back, warm and sure, guiding me with a quiet confidence that makes it impossible to resist. As we sway together, I lose myself in the sensation of his body pressed against mine, his breath grazing my ear.
He spins me, and a breathy laugh escapes my lips, surprise and thrill lighting up my senses. When he pulls me back, his voice dips low against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Told you, you’re a natural.”
His fingers trail lower down my spine, grazing over the sensitive skin of my waist. A shiver runs through me, the heat pooling low, and my heart beats so loud I wonder if he can hear it. His body is rock solid against mine, and I feel him growing harder, his arousal pressing into me with every subtle movement.
The music fades into the background, and the only thingthat matters is the way he holds me, the way we move together, our bodies perfectly in sync. By the time the last chord of the song plays, I’m breathless, aroused, and my body hums with need.
When the show ends, we stumble out of the venue, the cool night air hitting my flushed skin. My shirt, now adorned with the band’s signatures, feels like a prized possession. The music still thrums through my veins, mingling with the adrenaline of the private concert and the heat of Liam’s gaze.
I glance at him, my breath catching in my throat. His hair is slightly mussed, his eyes bright with excitement, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on his neck that makes me want to... I shake my head, trying to clear it.
“That was...” I start, then pause, searching for words adequate enough to describe the experience. “Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I say, my voice husky and breathless. “It was like observing a supernova up close. Brilliant, intense, and utterly unforgettable.”
“The night’s still young, Dr. James,” he says, guiding me toward the car. “And I have a few more surprises up my sleeve.”
As we slide into the back seat, Liam nods to the driver. “Marcus, to our next destination, please.”
“So, where are we headed now?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
Liam’s lips curl into that mischievous smile. “Patience, Dr. James. Haven’t you heard that anticipation enhances the experience?”
I snort. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a scientifically proven fact.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to conduct our own experiments, won’t we?”
The city lights blur past us as Marcus navigates the streets with professional efficiency. I steal glances at Liam, admiring his profile in the passing streetlights.
Before I can plan a witty response to his last comment, we’re pulling into a deserted parking lot. At least, it seems deserted at first glance. As Marcus opens the door for us and we step out, lights flicker to life, and I realize it’s anything but empty.
A dozen food trucks, their colorful exteriors gleaming, line the lot in a perfect semi-circle. The air fills with a tantalizing blend of aromas—spicy, sweet, savory—each more enticing than the last.
“Welcome to your own private food truck tour,” Liam announces with a flourish. “I’ve arranged for the best trucks in the city to stay open late, just for us.”
My stomach growls. “This is amazing. Are we going to try everything?”
