19. Amy
Amy
Liam's apologizing. He's sweet. He's thoughtful. He's not angry or blaming me for my reactions.
And instead of responding to his words, I blurt out, "So, you have stalkers?"
Smooth, Amy. Real fucking smooth.
"Sometimes." He doesn't bat an eye, following my lead. "K usually takes care of them. They might dress up like a fairy, but they're Rambo deep inside."
"Rambo?" I ask, noting K's pronouns and adjusting them in my head.
"Rambo. You don't know Rambo? With Sylvester Stallone?"
Squinting at Liam's face, I try to place the level of horror plastered all over it. He's not faking it.
There's no way I'm going to admit that I know who and what Rambo is. Nope. This is the perfect way to avoid important conversations, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth.
"Sorry, I don't get the reference."
Liam groans. "You're so young."
"Obscure references have nothing to do with age." I wave a hand dismissively. "It's about exposure. Maybe I was too busy gaming to watch it."
Liam's jaw drops. "Old movies? Rambo is a classic!"
"If it isn't viral, it doesn't get enough exposure to count."
"Rambo is... iconic. Timeless." He rubs his temples, looking genuinely distressed. "I can't believe you've never seen Rambo. It's a crime against cinema."
"Well, excuse me for not being born in the stone age." I smirk, enjoying his reaction perhaps a bit too much. "Some of us weren't around for the invention of the wheel, grandpa." I bump against him before continuing on with our walk. "Maybe it's not that I'm young, but that you're too old."
Liam hurries to catch up to me, his handsome face contorted in such anguish that I almost break character and confess I'm just messing with him about Rambo. Almost.
"I'm going straight to hell for robbing your cradle," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.
A laugh bursts out of me and I loop my arm through his, relishing the electric thrill as his bicep presses against the side of my breast. "You regret it, huh?" I glance up at him through my lashes, biting my lower lip. "Robbing my cradle and all that?"
Liam halts abruptly, jerking me to a stop beside him. His intense green-blue eyes lock onto mine, a muscle ticking in his chiseled jaw. "No."
The single syllable rings with conviction, sending a shiver racing down my spine.
"I don't regret a single fucking second with you, Amy." His voice is low and rough, laced with a passion that threatens to buckle my knees. "Not the night we had together, not the way you make me feel. None of it."
I swallow hard, my heart stuttering in my chest. The sincerity radiating from him is almost too much to bear. I want to look away but I'm pinned in place by his piercing gaze, hardly breathing.
"You're not just some way to recapture my youth or whatever other bullshit you might be thinking." Liam reaches out to cup my face with one large, calloused hand.
"This, between us? It's real, Amy."
Shit. I was trying to avoid heavy conversation. This should have been lighthearted flirting, and now he's coming out of nowhere with an ambush of feelings.
Avoiding Liam's intense scrutiny, I turn to keep walking.
It's obvious by now that I'm not going to engage in any meaningful conversation. My panic meter is rising. I can't do feelings. I'm not a feelings kind of girl. I'm more of a take each day as it comes kind of girl.
Remember, I'm an expert at sweeping shit under a rug.
I can't handle the raw emotion in his eyes, the weight of his words.
Liam's hand clasps mine, his fingers interlacing with my own as he tugs me close to his side. The heat of his body seeps into me where our thighs brush with each step along the shore. Sand shifts beneath my feet, the damp grains clinging to my toes.
"It's okay, Amy." His deep voice washes over me like the waves lapping at the beach. "I can wait. They say patience comes with age."
I risk a glance at him, my lips quirking in gratitude as he lets yet another topic slip by. "Are you saying you're an old man?"
"Compared to you? Absolutely ancient." Liam grins, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Well, I suppose there have to be some perks to your advanced years." I bump my shoulder against his playfully. "Aside from the senior citizen discount at Denny's, of course."
"Ouch!" He clutches his chest with his free hand in mock affront. "You really know how to wound a guy's ego, you know that?"
"It's a special skill."
Liam's hand glides down my back, leaving a trail of sparks in the ghostly impression of his touch. It comes to rest right above the curve of my ass, and I can't help sucking in a sharp breath.
My pussy throbs at that simple touch, my skin tingling where his fingers splay possessively.
Liam has no problem starting something with eyes on us, and the idea that he might as we walk on the crowded beach has me clenching my thighs together as I walk.
Fuck. It's been so long already as I've tried to ignore his presence. Tried not to think about the mind-blowing fuck we'd managed after so much teasing foreplay.
But he doesn't make any other moves, just keeps staring straight ahead as we continue our leisurely stroll along the beach.
The anticipation builds, his hand a heavy weight that promises pleasure. I bite my lip, waiting for him to grab a handful of my ass or slip his fingers lower...
"So, your handle is AmYDeadYet?"
His sudden question jolts me out of my lust-fogged daze. I blink up at him, struggling to switch mental gears.
"Um, yeah." I clear my throat, trying to act nonchalant as my brain focuses on his fingers, wishing he'd slide them lower and slip them under my skirt. "Why?"
Liam shrugs, the movement jostling me slightly since we're pressed so close together. "Figured you might want to know mine, since I found out yours today."
He's building to something, and it isn't to finger-fuck me on the beach in front of hundreds of strangers. Hauling my brain out of the gutter, I let him guide me further up the beach, away from the water. The tide's rolling in. "What's your username, Liam?"
"It's one you should recognize."
"Oh?"
He's doing what I'm doing; looking around. Figuring out how close people are. What they're doing. How much they notice around them.
When his hand finally slides a little lower, resting firmly on my ass as we head further away from the water, my breath hitches.
Liam's hand moves then, to my hip, guiding me until I'm walking ahead of him. The heat of his body radiates against my back, sending a shiver down my spine despite the lack of contact between us. His fingers slide to the front as my steps slow, massaging into the crease of my thighs with deliberate pressure.
I can't help the whimper that escapes my lips at his touch, my body responding instantly.
"So," Liam murmurs, his chest bumping against my back and his breath hot against my ear, "have you figured it out yet? My username?"
Username? My mind scrambles, trying to recall our conversation. But it's impossible to think straight with his hands on me like this, his touch igniting a fire in my veins.
"I..." My voice comes out breathless, trembling. "I don't..."
Liam chuckles, a low, wicked sound that vibrates through me. "You don't remember?" His fingers inch lower, teasing over the fabric of my skirt. "I'm hurt, Amy. And here I thought I had your full attention."
Full attention? He has no idea. Every nerve ending in my body is attuned to him. Every part of me wants to grab onto him and beg him for more.
I swallow hard, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. "I forgot what we were talking about." The admission falls from my lips, laced with a needy whine, as his fingers skim right over the apex of my thighs. If my clothes were out of the way, he'd be so damn close to where I want his fingers.
"Mmm, I can see that." Liam's voice is a low rumble, filled with masculine satisfaction. "Seems like I'm distracting you." One finger rubs a slow, deliberate circle over my clothed clit, making my hips jerk. "Maybe I should stop..."
Thank fuck there's no one in front of us. I'm sure we look suspicious as hell the way we're walking, especially now that we've slowed to a fucking snail's pace, but— God.
"No!" The word bursts out of me, desperate and pleading. I plant my feet against the ground, leaving space for his hand to dive between my legs.
The man is going to kill me by doing these sinful things when people can see us, but I'm loving every goddamn second of it.
"Don't stop. Please."
I can feel his smile against my temple, his lips grazing my skin. "Since you asked so nicely..." He increases the pressure, rubbing harder, and I moan, my head falling back against his shoulder.
Nothing else matters except his touch, the way he's making me feel. The beach, the people around us, our entire conversation... It all fades away, narrowing down to this one perfect, agonizing moment, the frustration only increasing the pleasure I feel as he hits the perfect angle, sending pulses of need straight through me with every stroke.
"Liam," I breathe, my voice a needy rasp. "I need..."
"Shh. There are children here. We can't corrupt the children."
His hand disappears, and I want to throttle him for ditching me when I was so fucking close. "Liam, I swear to fucking God I'm going to murder you."
"God would be devastated to hear such words, Amy. Are you a sinner? Do we need to go to confession?"
The image of him playing with me in the middle of a church sends a wave of lust so strong, I'm positive my panties are dripping.
Holy shit. I've never been a church kind of girl, but—I'm about two seconds from begging him to break into a church and fuck me on the altar. Or in a confessional.
"Maybe next time," he murmurs into my ear, and I whine with the frustration of arousal so strong that I can almost come from the sound of his voice alone.
Almost. But not quite.
He nudges me forward. "So, about that username…"