Chapter 7
Seven
Bristol
Liam says goodbye to his teammates and we walk outside, back to his place.
It’s freezing outside. My teeth are chattering as I nudge up against him to try to keep warm.
I’m carrying a small backpack with a change of clothes for tomorrow, my toothbrush, and my medicine.
“Give me that,” Liam insists, taking the bag off me so I don’t have to carry it. He slings it over his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
“Cold?” he asks, noticing me shiver and wraps an arm around my waist as we walk.
“We couldn’t take the bus back to your place?”
Or his car?
“The bus route at this hour doesn’t go straight to the house. It’d still be a bit of a walk. Sorry, I should have asked Luca to drop us off before they went to the party.”
“It’s fine.” I can’t feel my fingers or toes, but I keep moving my feet, hoping to get to his place and warm up.
“You’re pissed,” Liam says with a laugh.
“I’m cold!” I emphasize, shivering as I try to quicken my steps.
It doesn’t take much for Liam to keep up with me. His long legs make his strides seamless while I have to jog to keep his pace. “I’ll warm you up when we get inside.”
“Is that a promise?” I bite out, my lips trembling.
“If I don’t, the blankets certainly will.”
I smack him and he grimaces. “Ow, that stings.”
I raise an eyebrow, surprised that he’s complaining. He just got done getting his ass smacked around on the ice, albeit they won, but it is still a brutal sport. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Bristol Greyson,” Liam growls and lifts me into the air, putting me over his shoulder, the one opposite of my backpack.
“Put me down this instant!” My hands ball into fists as I pound at his back.
He chuckles but keeps walking; his pace doesn’t even slow in the slightest while carrying me.
Show off.
“You’ll have to ask nicely,” he taunts as he carries me toward the house. We’re only a block away but I swear if anyone sees him carrying me, I’d be humiliated!
“Fuck off,” I grumble at him. “Put me down.”
As we approach the front door, he sets my feet down on the ground and unlocks the house with his key.
“Asshole,” I hiss at him and he opens the front door, letting me inside.
He steps in after me, flips on the lights, and disarms the alarm.
The house smells like it’s been freshly painted, but the walls are the bland cream that they were the last time I was over.
Weird.
“Your house smells like new paint.”
“Does it?” Liam says and slips off his shoes and coat. “Didn’t notice.” He places my backpack by the front door on the floor.
“Did you guys paint the place?”
“The owners had some electrical work on the house done and they must have patched and painted where they went into the wall.”
“Oh,” I say and glance at the living room wall. “Is this where they patched it?”
Liam shrugs. “No clue. I wasn’t home, but I assume the paint is dry. Just don’t fuck me against the wall and we’re good.”
He winks at me and I just stare at him, flabbergasted.
“What?” The smile grows on his lips as he pulls me against him, his hands firm on my hips “Do you not like when I use the word fuck.”
It’s the way he says it that heats my body temperature several degrees. It’s also the intense eye contact, and I swear I’m turning into a puddle for the man who is undoubtedly both annoying and sexy as hell.
He keeps one hand on my hip, and with the other, he brushes a stray hair off my face and I shiver.
“Your hands are ice.”
“We were outside,” Liam reminds me.
I grab his hands, keeping them off my bare skin until they warm. I enclose his hands in mine, trying to warm them but it’s not like I’m a furnace. I’m still a bit chilled from our walk home after the hockey game.
I remove his beanie and he’s got a bit of damp hair under his hat. “Liam!” I can’t help but scold. “You went out with wet hair in the cold? You’re going to get sick!”
“That’s not true.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not even frozen.” He grabs my hand and forces me to drag it through his cold, damp hair.
“You’re not convincing me that you’re well or sane,” I point out.
Liam chuckles and leans in, kissing me. “Your lips are warm.”
They don’t feel incredibly warm, but compared to his hands and his hair, I suppose he’s right. “Come here.” I drag him down the hallway as he opens his mouth, about to say something. “What?”
“You’re hot when you’re bossy,” Liam says, and I open his bedroom door, walking backward inside as I drag him to follow me.
He hits the light on the wall and then shuts the door behind himself.
“Clothes off,” I order, and Liam grins, tilting his head.
“Yes, firebreather.”
I roll my eyes and remove my jersey and pants, climbing under the covers.
Liam tsks at me. “Everything off.” He points at my bra and panties. “Can’t get warm if you’re still wearing clothes.”
“You’d better take off your—”
He removes his pants and boxers in one swift movement, standing bare in front of me.
“You were saying?” Liam grins at me, and as he stalks closer, I undo the clasp of my bra and toss the material to the floor. “Panties too.”
I shake my head. “You’re going to have to take them off me if you want me completely naked.” I try desperately not to smile and bite down on my bottom lip, but it’s not working.
Liam tilts his head the other direction, glancing me up and down, drinking me in with his eyes. “Are you giving me orders?”
“Are you being a pain in my ass?” I quip.
He chuckles and grabs my hand, lying back on the bed, dragging me to follow him.
I straddle his hips, climbing above him, and dare I admit I am quite a bit hotter, even without all of my clothes on.
He has that effect on me.
Liam drags the covers up, but they fall around my hips. “Are you still cold?” he asks, his hands on my thighs and I’m not chilly at all.
“Do I feel cold?” I ask as I glance down at his hands on my bare skin. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I grind my hips against his, watching his eyes roll back in his head.
He moans, and the sound is absolutely delicious, making my pulse quicken. I grab his arms, pinning them beside me on the bed, staring down at him, watching him struggle to keep his gaze on me.
“Keep doing that,” Liam rasps and his voice is throaty and raw, primal.
The grin is plastered to my face as I listen to each breath and study his features.
I loosen my grip on his hands, and he digs his fingers into my hips, rising and grinding, meeting my movements with just as much intensity.
Sweat beads on his brow and each breath comes out as a soft gasp. “You keep doing that and—”
“And you’ll come?” I grin, leaning down and kissing Liam, my tongue pushing past his lips, hungrily devouring him.
He rolls us around, burying me beneath him, and his weight is positively sinful and makes me feel protected. Liam drags a hand along my thigh, his fingers teasing my skin, but not quite reaching the intended destination.
He’s fucking with me and dragging the whole process out. Knowing him, we’ll still be doing this tomorrow morning, and I’ll be either begging for sleep or for him to stop teasing me and let me come.
Liam will be the death of me.
Though I suppose if I die from sex, it’s not the worst way to go.
He drags his tongue over my thigh, his lips teasing a warm path over my bare flesh as he worships my body, every inch of it.
“Tease,” I mutter with a smile, my fingers running through his hair, pushing his head down farther between my thighs, giving him a hint.
He chuckles and nips at my inner thigh playfully.
I yelp and glare at him. “Liam Moretti, did you just bite me?” I lean forward, sitting up a bit, scowling at him.
“It was a love bite, and did you just use my full name?” He moves his attention to my other thigh and all the way down to my ankle, making me absolutely restless on the bed as I lie back down against the pillows.
“I did.” I emit a soft sigh and tug on him to move. He crawls back up my body, hovering over my lips.
“Is this what you want, firebreather?” Liam smiles down at me.
“Okay, Cin.”
“Sin?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. He props himself up on one elbow, staring down at me. He traces his thumb delicately against my cheek. “Am I sinful?” he guesses.
“You’re a cinnamon roll,” I say, staring up at him. “Hot. Sweet. Gooey on the inside.”
He snorts and pulls back. “Absolutely not. I’m hot. Yes. Sweet? Maybe. Gooey on the inside? Just no.”
“Yes.” I say, grinning, glad I found something that will annoy him. “You’re my cin bun.”
“Call me that again.” Heat flashes through his eyes and there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone.
But it’s Liam and as angry as he gets, the more that I’ve come to know him, he’s not really a bad guy.
He’s bluffing. The angry threat is just that, him trying to stir me up and cause trouble.
“Cin bun.” I giggle.
He pins me down on the mattress, trapping my arms, pulling them above my head.
“Liam?” My voice catches in my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching my little firebreather a lesson.” He grabs a long piece of cloth and ropes it around my wrists, binding them together. “Do you trust me?”
Slowly, I nod, staring up at him. “Yes.”
My stomach roils as the bed dips.
He’s leaving me, like this?
Immediately, I sit up and move my bound arms around him, keeping him to me, as the cloth slides down my wrists.
He never tied the cloth or secured it.
“Seems you don’t trust me after all,” Liam whispers, his gaze hot against my skin.
“That’s not true.”
I lean in, taking a taste, silencing him.
Was it a test?
I don’t care, I pull him back down beneath the covers, the air growing cooler without his body flush on mine.
He climbs back down, his body hovering, teasing, but not pressing his weight down into me. Like he’s deciding if he wants this—me.
“Is this because I called you a cinnamon roll? Are you trying to prove you’re not a sweet guy?” I can’t help but wonder if he’s teaching me a lesson.
His laugh is dark and he pulls me onto my side, curling up against me beneath the covers. “I’m not sweet, Bristol.”