I couldn’t seemto think straight.
Just like the last time he’d been this close to me, nothing was making sense. I released the death grip I had on his dresser and brought my hands up to his chest, not only to hold him at a distance, but to keep myself upright.
When I didn’t answer, he shifted closer. “What were you doing this morning?” he asked, his voice deep and thick with something I’d never heard directed toward me before.
I was lost in it for about two seconds, then I pushed at his shoulders to give me room to breathe—to think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.
His lips came back to my ear with that same voice that made me weak at the knees. “I think I know what you were doing.”
“No you don’t!” He couldn’t.Oh, God, could he?
“It’s probably the same thing I’ve been doing in the shower every day since you moved in.”
Well, that distracted me from my own mortification. “What?” I shouldn’t want to know, but at the same time, now it was all I could think about. This was so bad, but I couldn’t seem to pull myself away.
He brought one hand to my mouth where he thumbed my lower lip. I gave up trying to convince myself it was a bad idea and instead focused on drawing in enough air to keep from passing out. His forehead pressed against mine and he exhaled roughly at the same time I drew in a breath. It felt more intimate than any lover I’d had in my short life span, sharing breath with him.
My own eyes shuttered closed and it amplified the sensations of having him so close to me a thousand-fold. The hand at my mouth coasted down my neck, over my collar-bone then down to my trembling hand. He took it in his and that same thumb pressed into the wildly fluttering pulse point at my wrist. Then he palmed my hand and brought it to my waist and turned me around to face the mirror above his dresser.
His lips found my ear again and I met his gaze in the mirror with half-lidded eyes. “I think you were doing this,” he said and guided my hand down from my stomach to rest above the waistband of my scrubs.
The drowsy-laziness of arousal snapped clear with recognition, but he wouldn’t release my hand when I began to struggle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said shortly, cheeks burning.
He merely smirked. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Stubble scraped along my shoulder and I melted a little. “Liam,” I warned but I wasn’t sure if it was because I wanted him to stop or because I wanted him to keep going.
“Let me show you,” he said in that rumbly voice. I had no way to defend myself against it and it was like he knew. Maybe because he knew me better than anyone else in the world. Maybe because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him like this. Or the Liam-inspired orgasm I’d had not even an hour before had turned my brain into mush.
That had to be why the words “Show me what?” tumbled from my mouth instead of a refusal.
His hand began to move over mine, this time to guide it further south…and underneath the waistband of my scrubs. “We can’t,” I said again, but if he stopped I was pretty sure it would kill me. “You have to leave.”
“Shh. I’m busy here,” he said.
Our hands were over the material of my panties and he was right. There was no point in talking. My throat was so dry I couldn’t form any more protestations even if I wanted to.
He nuzzled my ear. “That’s my girl.”
Seeing us in the mirror and feeling the slow, torturous exploration of our hands together was an assault on my senses, short-circuiting what was left of my self-control. As I gave into him, he guided my hand over my thighs in a gentle, loving caress and for once I was grateful for my scrubs and how easily accessible they were.
With languid strokes, he directed my hand over the tops of my thighs and down between my trembling legs, but never where I wanted him to go. My head dropped back against his shoulder when the sight of us in the mirror became too much for me to handle. He used his free hand to angle my head to the side so he could kiss my neck as he continued the torture.
“I think I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. Too long. When I saw you with that jerk and the things he was saying about you. I snapped. It wasn’t just because we’re friends. It took realizing one day some man is going to propose to you for real for me to wake the fuck up.”
My breath caught in my throat as he nudged my hand further between my legs. If I weren’t already embarrassed by being caught, the evidence of my arousal dampening my panties would have been enough.
It didn’t bother Liam though. As his fingers pushed between mine, he felt the proof for himself. His resulting groan sounded just like the one from my dreams and I fairly collapsed against him in response.
“We should stop,” I croaked out even though it was the last thing I wanted.
“No way in hell,” he growled.
“But what about—”
He brought my gaze back to his in the mirror. “We don’t have to make any decisions now, Charlie. The only thing that matters is that I want you and I think you want me, too. If not, tell me now and I’ll stop and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure things go back to normal.”
I hesitated, but it was only for a second. If it were anyone else, I would have walked away and not looked back, but it was Liam and it felt righter than anything else in my life. I’ve spent almost every day feeling uncertain about something. My past, my parents, my future. But I’d never questioned Liam, who’d always been there. I didn’t know how this would change everything between us, but I trusted him. Even with my heart.
