19. Whitney
19
WHITNEY
I am kissing Liam.
Or rather, Liam is kissing me. He’s kissing me like a dying man gasping his last breath, like he can’t get enough. His lips are softer than they look, and he tastes like tequila and mint, a dangerous combination that I could easily get used to. The throng of bodies pressing against us only fuels me on, locking us into a seductive haze. I can imagine, here under the flashing lights, that I’m someone else. Someone bolder and sexier.
I can pretend.
Sliding my fingers through Liam’s hair, I can’t help the moan that escapes me at his touch. His hands are pressed against my skin, his thumb is rubbing circles against my hips, and the movement is making me unbelievably turned on. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this.
Sexy.
Wanted.
Alive.
Liam deepens the kiss as he presses against me, his hands moving upwards so that his thumbs brush the underside of my breasts. The movement sends an involuntary shiver through me. He presses closer, and I can suddenly feel all of him; now I know for sure he’s just as turned on as I am.
Holy shit.
We’re starting to cross the point of no return, and I can’t find it within me to care. I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop.
Liam pulls back abruptly, both of our chests heaving. My eyes wander over to the booth where Shane and Abbi should be, but they are nowhere to be seen. He follows my gaze and seems to realize the same thing as me.
We are alone.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. What is he thinking? His expression is completely unreadable. He’s staring down at me with that blank, hard look on his face — the one that he gives me in the mornings when we’re chatting over coffee. When his stubble glows golden in the morning light.
He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear again. Another shiver rocks through me, goosebumps forming all over my skin. I’m terrified for what he’s going to say. Is he going to say this was a mistake? Laugh it off? Tell me that it can’t happen again, that he doesn’t think of me like that?
“Let me take you home,” he breathes against me, and when I catch his gaze in the blinking disco lights, there’s a glint of determination in his eye.
When we get back to the apartment, it’s silent. We didn’t speak the entire Uber ride home, both of us crowded into opposite corners in the backseat. I pressed my head against the window, watching the passing cars and pedestrians outside and trying to come up with something to say to Liam.
I’ve got absolutely nothing.
I blame the tequila.
The door slams behind us, the sound reverberating in the quiet, dark room. I stumble into the kitchen, keeping my back to Liam while I pour myself a glass of water. Leaning against the counter, I drink the whole thing, keeping my gaze trained on the fridge. I can’t bring myself to turn around. To see the regret that must be settling over his features.
Just get it over with. Rip the band-aid off.
I’m ready to do just that when I feel it. The barely-there brush of Liam’s hand against the nape of my neck, pulling my hair to one side. He presses his lips to the side of my neck, peppering soft kisses against me. I gasp at the contact and swallow a loud gulp. He stops his movements when he hears me, resting his head against my shoulder and bringing one hand to my hip, to that same spot he was touching in the club. The spot that seems to burn me from the inside out.
“What are we doing?” he groans against me.
I have no idea.
All I know is that I don’t want to stop, even knowing what a mistake this is.
“I don’t know,” I whisper into the dark room.
He brushes his thumb against my hip, sending another flutter through me. That tiny movement, that single brush of his thumb, and clarity washes through me. I turn, pulling back slightly as he lifts his head to look at me.
“Just once,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows in question, and my eyes flicker back and forth between his.
“You’re drunk,” he replies, shaking his head.
“Barely,” I retort. “I promise. Just one time to get it out of our system. Okay?”
His brow furrows further, and he looks almost disappointed by my response. But isn’t this what he wants? I can’t be reading him wrong. He wants me as much as I want him. I know it. In fact, I can feel it against my thigh.
Finally, he nods in agreement. “Just once,” he agrees, but he still hesitates, looking conflicted.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“It’s just… been a while. I haven’t… since before Luke, I mean,” he admits, biting his bottom lip. The unsure expression on his face sends a pang of affection through me, and I bring my hand up to his cheek, cupping it softly.
“We can stop whenever you want to,” I say shakily, not trusting my voice.
“I think once we start, I won’t be able to stop,” he replies.
His lips are on mine again, and this time, I’ve thrown any pretense of shyness out the window. I grind against him, pressing our bodies as close together as possible. He catches on quickly, wrapping his hands around my thighs and lifting me onto the kitchen counter. I wrap my legs around him, straddling him as he moves his hands up my thighs, bunching my dress up to my hips. He pulls away from my kiss and hooks his hands around my panties.
“May I?” he asks, and I nod fervently, lifting myself up and shimmying to try to help him.
He halts me, shaking his head slightly. “Slow down. I want to take my time with you,” his husky voice drawls out.
He drags my thong down my legs slowly, like I’m a gift that he’s unwrapping layer by layer. He tosses them to the side, and I watch them land on the floor.
“Should we… get out of the kitchen? Go to my room?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his gaze focused on where I’m now bare for him to see. Slowly, so goddamn slowly, he moves his hands down my thighs and spreads my legs.
“Not yet. I haven’t eaten, and I’m starved.”
Oh my God.
I have no time to process before he drops down to his knees and drags me to the edge of the counter. Holy fuck, he looks so hot on his knees in front of me. I can’t help but buck my hips slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flicker up to me, a smirk spreading across his face.
“Patience, love.”
I let out a breath of frustration as he presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, his hand wandering and caressing me everywhere except where I need him the most. He teases me like that, his breath hot against me, but he still doesn’t press his lips to me.
“Liam,” I breathe out, half-warning, half-begging.
His name on my lips only seems to fuel him more. He meets my eyes again, quirking an eyebrow.
“What do you want?”
I huff out another breath, this one almost a growl. “You know.”
His smirk only grows. “I’d like to hear you say it. My fingers inside that dripping cunt of yours? Or do you want me to lick you until you scream my name? Hmm? I know how you can talk, Whit. Tell me what you want.”
I swallow, my throat tight. Jesus, his dirty talk is making me crazy. “Your… your mouth,” I whisper.
“My mouth where?”
I’m so embarrassed, I almost push him away. He must know how vulnerable this is for me, and this was just supposed to be fun. It’s not supposed to be so intense. His eyes flicker up towards me, and something in my expression must give me away, because his smirk fades, his gaze softening.
“You know what? I changed my mind. I don’t need you to say anything except ‘yes’.”
Finally, he presses his mouth against me, and God it’s incredible. He doesn’t just taste me, he devours me. I’m thrusting against him when his fingers find me, slipping one inside of me while his thumb brushes against my clit.
“Oh, God. Right there,” I tell him.
He continues his movements, switching between thrusting his tongue and his fingers inside of me. The combination is driving me crazy, and his thumb circling my clit is bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I wrap my hand in his hair, needing something to clutch onto.
“Fuck, Liam. I’m close,” I breathe out.
He doesn’t miss a beat. I didn’t think it was possible for him to give me any more, but he does. He curls his finger, pressing deeper and soon enough, I’m gasping and writhing against him. I squeeze my eyes closed as stars flash behind my eyes, an orgasm rushing through me. I bite my lip to stop from screaming, but a warbled sound still escapes me. I’m still shaking as I come down, and I look down to see Liam pull back and stare up at me with a wild grin on his face.
“Holy shit,” I laugh out.
His grin only grows. “Now we can go to the bed. I think we’re gonna need it.” He grabs my waist and picks me up, my legs wrapped loosely around him as he carries me.
“Yours or mine?”
“Don’t care.”
He kicks his door open and drops me onto his bed. He’s still fully clothed while I’m wearing nothing but my bunched-up dress. He seems to realize at the same time as I do as he kicks off his shoes and rips his socks off.
“Pants… off… now.” I reach for his belt and start yanking it off.
He puts his hand over mine. “What did I say about patience?”
I shake my head. “Patience is overrated.” I pull his pants down, and my jaw almost drops at the tent in his pants.
I can’t tell for sure, but he looks… big.
He pulls his shirt over his head while I yank my dress off. His bare chest is an incredible sight. I’m about to unclasp my bra when he pushes me gently back onto the bed and crawls over me.
“Wait,” he breathes against me. “I need to memorize this moment.”
I roll my eyes, but he presses his lips to mine, smothering me with an intense kiss. He seems to have forgotten his own desire to take things slow as he threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me as close to him as possible. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra, his hands immediately finding their way to my nipples. He caresses and pinches them until I’m on the edge again, and I press a palm to his chest.
“Do you have a condom?”
He blinks back at me, then nods.
“Should I… ?”
“Yes, go get it, you idiot!”
He chuckles and crosses the room. I lay back against the pillows, my head spinning. I don’t know if it’s from the orgasm or from the fact that I’m about to have sex with Liam, but I feel like I’m floating. He returns with the condom, pressing his lips against mine, kissing me deeply. He seems content to just kiss for a while, both of us memorizing the movements of each other’s mouths. But I need more. I thrust my hips against him, moaning, and finally, he gets the hint. He rolls the condom on, hovering above me. He looks so sexy like this, his light hair tussled and messy, his lips swollen and pink. I run my hands over his abs, tracing the black tattooed lines, relishing the feel of him.
He locks eyes with me, his gaze surprisingly gentle. “You sure?”
I nod, hoping I don’t look as eager as I feel. Can he tell that I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything?
“I’m sure.”
He thrusts into me in one swoop, and it’s not gentle. It’s everything. I take a moment to adjust to the feeling of him, the fullness, but soon we find a rhythm. I’m so turned on I feel like I’m on fire.
“Fuck,” Liam breathes against me. He thrusts against me, slow this time, building to a steady rhythm.
“I need?—”
“What?”
I push against him, trying to build friction, and he seems to understand. He reaches down between us and finds my clit, teasing his fingers against me.
“You feel so good, Whit.”
The sound of my nickname on Liam’s lips should not be my undoing. But it is. Soon enough, I feel another orgasm building. It’s intense, the swell of feeling growing within me. It’s too much.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he groans, thrusting into me again.
“You have?”
He brings his eyes up to meet mine, his gaze intense and pained. “All the fucking time. It’s better than I could have imagined.”
“More. Harder,” I moan.
My words unleash something in him, and he doesn’t hold back. He presses into me over and over, hitting an angle I didn’t know was possible. He lifts my left leg, thrusting deeper.
“I don’t know… shit, Whitney. I don’t know if I can last if you keep squeezing me like that.”
“Oh my God,” I choke out.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he whispers. “Taking my cock so well. It’s like you were made for me.”
“Oh my God,” I repeat. “More. Tell me more.”
He thrusts into me. “You like that? Hearing how amazing you feel? You like being a good girl for me?”
I can’t. I can’t take any more.
“You’re dripping all over me, dirty girl. I can feel you squeezing my cock. So fucking sweet. So fucking perfect,” he groans.
I’m coming. I’m coming and screaming and shaking. I’ve lost all sense of myself. Nothing else matters but this.
“Fuck!” Liam growls against me. “Fuck, fuck.”
He’s coming too. I know it. We’re both pulsing against each other, incoherent. It feels like it goes on forever, until I feel him collapse against me, spent.
“Holy shit,” he breathes against me, both of us sweaty and heaving tired breaths.
“I know,” I reply, hoping he can’t hear the emotion in my voice.
It’s never been like that for me before. So… connected.
I don’t have time to read too much into it. I can already feel sleep calling me, exhaustion settling into my bones. Just as my eyes are fluttering closed in a post-orgasm bliss, I swear I hear Liam mutter next to me, “I don’t think once is going to be enough.”