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Except Andrew. I yelp as he hisses at me and swipes at my ankle.

“Maybe we should go to my room instead?” Liam suggests, holding back his laughter.

“Probably a good idea.” I grin.I wait until he closes the door, my heart racing as he walks over to me.

“That’s better,” he confirms as his fingers caress my face. I smile and close my eyes as he presses his lips against mine and slowly backs me toward the bed. When I feel it behind me, I sit, then lie back, shuffling my way up the bed while he crawls over me.

“This isn’t awkward at all.” He grins. I laugh, because I was thinking the same thing. His lips find my neck, his tongue circling its way up and down my neck. I arch my back, my body tingling when he unzips my dress. He lowers it far enough to caress the back of my neck.

He grabs hold of my dress and lifts it up, unthreading my arms. Then he lifts it over my head, nearly decapitating me in the process.

“Jesus, hold on,” I say with a muffled laugh when he tugs harder. “It’s too tight,” I gasp. “Did you not lower the zipper all the way down?”

“I thought I did.” He frowns. He reaches behind me and pulls on the zipper, but it won’t move. “The zipper’s stuck. I need scissors to get it off.”

What? I laugh. This is ridiculous.

“Who the hell would carry scissors around?”

Silence.

“I have an idea. Don’t go anywhere.”

Where am I going to go?

He races out, and then returns what feels like only seconds later.

“She’s still asleep,” he assures me.

Grammy. Of course.

He sits behind me on the bed and shifts my hair aside. Then he carefully cuts along the zipper. The tension instantly relaxes, allowing me to lift the dress over my head. I throw it on the floor and rub my tender neck. I’m relieved to be free, but the relief is short-lived when I remember that’s the only dress I have.

“Crap.”

“What is it?” he asks.

“I only packed the one dress.”

“What?” he laughs. “Why would you only bring one dress?”

“Because I did,” I retort, already feeling stupid about it. “The fact is, the only dress I have is in pieces.”

“It’s hardly in pieces,” he argues. “I did one very clean cut, which any professional could repair—”

“Which doesn’t help the current situation,” I explode. “Unless Grammy has some mad sewing skills.”

“I’ve never seen her sew a thing in her life,” he admits. “Do you have anything else to wear?”

“Sweatpants.” I sigh, shivering as his eyes roam over my body. “I was wondering why you wore it again,” he murmurs. “I thought you must’ve decided you really liked it.”

I flush. “No, I purposely chose to dress modestly, because of what the event was.”

“You parent’s sex ceremony, you mean?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

I glare at him.

“You really know how to kill the moment, you know.”

“I thought we did that already when I had to get Grammy’s crocheting scissors.” He grins.

I laugh and crawl across the bed, so I’m kneeling on the mattress, in front of him. He touches me, his fingers gently creeping all over my body.

“If you’re going to be embarrassed about this, then you might as well have a good reason for it. Seeing you in that sexy black bra and that tiny thong is doing some pretty amazing things to me right now.”

Laughing, I lower the zipper on his pants and slide my hand inside, resting it against his stiff cock.

“You’re definitely aroused,” I agree, pressing my lips together.

“Maybe we should do something about it then.”

He cradles my face in his hands, his lips finding mine. I sigh, loving the feeling of his tongue massaging mine.

“As much as I love you in this bra…” He kisses my neck. “It has to go.”

I groan as he reaches behind me and unclips my bra. He peels it off and flicks it aside, his fingers softly stroking my skin. I shiver, my skin sensitive to his touch. Everything is on alert, including my nipples. His hands find my breasts and I gasp as he massages them, rolling my nipples, between his finger and thumb.

“Wow,” I sigh.

I tilt my neck back, letting him kiss along it. My hands tense around his waist as his lips roll over my skin.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he mumbles in my ear.

I nod, because I feel the same way. I relax as he kisses my neck, his hands exploring my body. I close my eyes and sigh, then scream as he launches a stealth tickle assault on me.

“You bastard,” I growl.

My arms flail around as I try to tickle him back, but he locks his hands around my wrists, retraining me with ease. I glower at him, trying my best to remain serious, but I can’t stop the smile from forming.

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