Chapter 3
Liam
I wake with my arm draped over the warm curve of her bare hip and her ass firmly in my lap. My dick responds as my hand wanders under her hoodie—my hoodie—and I squeeze her ample breast.
She lets out a little moan.
Somewhere in the back of my hungover, sleep haze, I try to remember if I brought that woman home from the bar last night.
But she had short hair. My face is currently buried in a wild mess of curls that sprawl across my pillow.
I squeeze her breast a little harder this time, needing to hear that throaty moan from her again.
Maybe this is a dream. A hot as fuck wet dream like I am a goddamned teenager, but I don’t care. My dream girl wiggles her ass tighter against my erection, and I push my dick against her thin panties and pinch her nipple.
“Uh-huh,” she whimpers. And I need to get my hand between her luscious thighs.
“Let me touch you, baby,” I whisper in her curl-covered ear. “Let me make you come.”
I slide my hand down over the swell of her belly and tease the top of her underwear. She rolls into me.
“Liam?”
“Yes, baby,” I nuzzle into her neck and dip my finger into the elastic of her underwear. Until she shoves me off her…hard.
“What the fuck, Liam!” she screams and clambers away from me.
It’s still dark in Cal’s bedroom, almost pitch black, and I think I’m still drunk because I can’t remember what happened last night.
But fuck, do I want to remember, I hope I worshiped every one of those juicy curves last night. I hope I feasted between those thighs.
“What…where did…what the hell?” she stammers before flipping on the light.
I throw my hands over my eyes from the painful onslaught of light when a pillow is launched at my head. “I’m serious, Liam Blake. What are you doing here?”
“What’s happening?” I mutter, pulling my hands away from my face, my eyes adjusting enough to see the gorgeous woman now standing in her underwear and my Iron Cats hoodie at the foot of the bed.
My still-drunk brain finally catches up. She’s older now, with grown-up curves, soft angles, and full lips. I barely recognize her. But she still has the same wild curls she had as a kid and the same baby blue eyes, just like Cal’s.
Realization dawns on me like a cold shower I didn’t sign up for.
I was about to finger my best friend’s little sister.