Chapter 7 Liam
Emily’s hand was warm in mine as we walked back to her dorm.
“That was insane,” she said for the third time. Her cheeks were flushed—from the cold, from the beer, from the adrenaline still buzzing through both of us. “I can’t believe Marcus actually said that shit to Remy.”
The word echoed in my head. Faggot. The way Marcus had spat it out like poison.
A familiar heat rose in my chest, that old Moore anger.
Remy didn’t flinch. Didn’t apologize for existing. Just stood there, five-foot-five of pure fuck-you confidence, and took up all the space in the world.
I wish I could be like that. Honest with who I was...
The thought hit me sideways. Sharp and uncomfortable.
What the hell did that even mean?
Nothing. It meant nothing. I’d defended my teammate. That’s what I did. Marcus was a dick, Remy didn’t deserve that shit, and I’d wanted to hit Marcus for years anyway.
Simple.
“Yeah.” My knuckles were still sore from connecting with his face. “Guy’s always been a dick.”
“You didn’t even hesitate.” She squeezed my hand, looked up at me with something bright in her eyes. “You just—boom. Dropped him.”
I laughed, some of the tension finally starting to drain from my shoulders. “Seemed like the thing to do.”
“It was.” She was quiet for a second, then added, “That was really brave, Liam. Standing up for Remy like that.”
“He watches out for me and I watch out for him.”
She tugged me closer as we crossed the quad toward her dorm at Patterson Hall.
“It was the right thing to do. Even if it was stupid and reckless and you could’ve gotten actually hurt,” she said.
“I didn’t get hurt.”
“You got elbowed. I saw it.”
“Barely felt it.” That was a lie. My ribs were going to be sore as hell tomorrow. But right now, riding the high of victory and violence and Emily’s hand in mine, I felt invincible.
We reached Patterson Hall. Emily swiped her student ID, pulled me through the lobby. A few people were scattered around—someone watching TV with headphones on, a couple studying at one of the tables.
I hit the button for the elevator and the doors opened immediately and we stepped in and Emily hit the button for the fourth floor.
As soon as the doors closed, she turned to me, grabbed the front of my shirt, and pulled me down into a kiss.
I made a surprised sound against her mouth, but then my hands found her waist and I was kissing her back. Hard. She tasted like cheap beer and mint gum, and when she bit my bottom lip I groaned.
Her hand slid down my chest, over my stomach, and then lower—palming me through my jeans.
“Fuck,” I gasped against her mouth.
She smiled, working me through my jeans. I was already getting hard, and the friction combined with the look in her eyes was making it impossible to think straight.
“Emily—“
“What?” She squeezed—I had to brace one hand against the elevator wall. “You started it at that party. Walking around all protective and righteous.”
“That’s what did it for you?” My voice came out rough.
“That’s what did it for me.” She kissed me again, kept touching me until I was fully hard and straining against my jeans.
The elevator dinged. Fourth floor.
She pulled back, grinning at my obvious frustration, and grabbed my hand.
We hurried down the hall to her dorm.
She fumbled with her keys at her door, cursing under her breath when they dropped. I bent to pick them up, handed them to her, pressed a kiss to her neck while she finally got the door open.
The door swung open.
String lights stretched across the ceiling, casting everything in soft amber. Photos tacked to corkboard in uneven rows. Her bed buried under decorative pillows that served no actual purpose. The air smelled like her perfume—vanilla and something floral.
She stepped inside. I followed.
The door closed behind us with a soft click and she locked it.
I turned he to face me. Her chest rose and fell and her eyes were dark. Pupils blown wide. Want written across every feature—clear, uncomplicated, completely directed at me.
My heart kicked harder.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
She stepped closer, hands sliding up my chest. “It was so sexy watching you being the protector. You even blocked someone from hitting Alex.”
My chest lurched at the sound of his name from her lips. “What?”
“Some big guy wound up to hit him, and you just—“ She made a gesture, like pushing something away. “Stopped him even though he’s, like, your biggest rival.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. “Yeah.” I shrugged, tried to sound casual. “Pretty sure I was just reacting on instinct.”
Liar. You knew exactly who it was. You saw that fist coming at his face and you moved before you could think.
Emily made a noise, seemingly satisfied with my lie. Her hands slid to my shoulders, down my arms. “Well, it was hot. You being all protective, even in the middle of that mess.”
I swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She kissed me again, and I let it wash away the memory of Alex’s eyes meeting mine—that split second of shock and something else I thought ended at today’s race.
Emily broke the kiss, stepped back. Started pulling her shirt over her head. She was wearing a black lace bra, and the sight of her—curves and soft skin and the way she was looking at me—made everything else fade to white noise.
“You gonna just stand there?” she asked, smiling.
I crossed the distance between us in two steps. Kissed her hard, walking her backward until her legs hit the bed. She fell onto it with a laugh, and I followed her down, covering her body with mine.
Her hands found the hem of my shirt, tugged it up. I broke the kiss long enough to pull it off, toss it somewhere behind me. She ran her hands over my chest, my shoulders, mapping muscle with appreciative hums. Heat shot through me wherever she touched, raising goosebumps down my body.
“God,” she breathed. “Have you gotten bigger?”
“Maybe.”
I kissed her neck, her collarbone, working my way down. She arched under me, fingers threading through my hair. When I reached the edge of her bra, I looked up at her.
She nodded.
I unhooked it, pulled it off. Took a moment just to look at her. She was beautiful. Flushed and wanting. I wanted her too. I did.
I kissed her breast, circled my tongue around her nipple, and she gasped. Her hands tightened in my hair.
“Liam—“
I worked my way lower, kissing down her stomach while my hands found the button of her jeans. She lifted her hips to help me pull them off, and then she was just in black panties.
Fuck.
“Come here,” she said, pulling me back up to kiss her.
Her hands went to my belt, and I helped her, kicking off my jeans and boxer briefs until we were both naked. She wrapped her hand around my cock, and I groaned against her mouth.
“You’re so hard,” she said.
“Been thinking about this.” Not a lie. I’d been thinking about her, about this, about proving to myself that—
I kissed her deeper. She rolled us so I was on my back, and she was straddling me now. The heat of her pressed against my cock made me groan.
She sat back, looked down at me with dark eyes. “I want to taste you.”
She kissed down my chest, my stomach, moving lower. Heat followed her lips down my stomach, each kiss making my dick throb harder until I could barely think past the need building as she settled between my legs.
And then her mouth—hot and wet—wrapped around me.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
She worked me with her mouth and hand in sync, alternating between sucking and licking, taking me deeper. I had to fight not to thrust up into her throat.
God. So good.
I looked down at her. The sight of her mouth around my cock, the focused expression on her face, the way her hand moved—I closed my eyes and the image in my mind changed.
Different hair. Shorter. Darker. Those blue eyes looking up at me instead. Alex with his full lips stretched around me—
I throbbed harder. A shock of pleasure so intense I gasped.
No. Fuck. Don’t.
I opened my eyes, shoving the image away and focused on Emily—just Emily. The reality of her, not the fantasy of—
Emily hummed around me, and the vibration sent another spike of pleasure through me. I was getting close. Too close.
“Emily,” I said, voice rough. “Come here.”
She pulled off, confused. “You don’t want—“
“I want you.” I reached down, pulled her up to me. “I want to be inside you.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by something warmer. Softer. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Condom?” I asked.
“Nightstand.”
She reached over, fumbled in the drawer until she found one. Took it from me, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me.
Then she positioned herself over me, eyes locked on mine.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She sank down slowly, and the heat and tightness of her made my eyes nearly roll back. Fuck. Fuck.
“Oh my god,” she breathed. “You feel so good.”
I gripped her hips, helped guide her as she started to move. Slow at first, then faster. She braced her hands on my chest, rode me with a confidence that was so fucking sexy I could barely think.
I watched her—the way her head fell back, the way her breasts moved, the little sounds she made. This was good. This was right. This was what I should want.
And I did want it. I wanted her.
She leaned forward, kissed me messy and desperate, and I thrust up to meet her. She moaned against my mouth, and I swallowed the sound.
She moaned. “Liam—”
We found a rhythm. Hard and fast, the bed creaking under us.
My hands gripped her ass, fingers digging in as I pulled her down harder, meeting each thrust with my hips driving up.
Her nails raked down my shoulders, sharp enough to sting.
The sensation was almost too much—the wet heat of her sliding up and down my cock, the friction making my entire body tense with building pressure.
“God, Liam—” she gasped. “So good—”
I could feel the intensity building—her walls fluttering around me, her breathing getting ragged, her movements more desperate and uncoordinated. My abs clenched with each thrust. Heat coiled tight at the base of my spine.