"I know what these taste like,” he says, his voice low and full of promise.
My mouth opens slightly—air suddenly hard to come by—as his fingers trail down the center of my chest. I arch into his touch before I can stop myself, and when they pause just above my nipple, I stop breathing completely.
“And I know what these feel like pressed against me." His fingertips drag over my peak, light but intoxicating.
I expel the breath I'd been holding, everything below my waistline tight and heavy with need.
Liam lifts his hand again, brushing my hair off my shoulder. His fingers graze my neck—intentional or not, I’m not sure—and the spark it ignites nearly buckles my knees.
“And I know what you sound like when you’re touching yourself…"
His hand drops back to his side, leaving me desperate for him to put it back on me. To touch me anywhere.
He gives me a single, steady look. “I think it’s safe to say I’m already screwed.”
"So, what?" I ask, my voice needy, my body begging for him. "We just ignore the risk and hope things work out?"
Liam inhales deeply, his lips turning down almost amused. "It's how I got here."
My brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
"With Ruthie and baseball." He tucks his hands into his pockets. "I didn't plan any of it. Not really. I just… jumped. I trusted how I felt. In some ways, that's how the two best things in my life happened. How they've stayed this good for so long."
His words land like a brick in my chest.
He steps closer still. "Listen," he says, running his palms down my arms. "I'm not saying we throw ourselves off a cliff recklessly. But I also don't want to lose what feels…" His jaw ticks as his fingertips slide to the sensitive skin at the pulse in my wrist. "Undeniable."
"So… you want to try."
He tips his chin down like it's the easiest decision he's made all day. "I do. Despite the risk. Despite the lines."
I swallow, overwhelmed by it all.
"Okay," I say suddenly, more sure than I thought was possible—surprising even myself.
He gasps quietly, his breath floating past my cheek. "Okay?"
I nod, and he slams his lips to mine. It's eager at first as if his relief is physically leaving his body. But when I open for him, he rolls his tongue over mine slowly—savoring the hope that replaces it.
I relish in the brief moment of contentment before ripping my mouth off of his.
"But we need to go slow," I insist, my breath heavy.
"Yeah," Liam nods, before pecking my lips again. "As slow as you want."
We intertwine again, his hands weeding into my hair and mine wrapping around his neck.
"And I don't think we should tell Ruthie."
He stiffens slightly, his jaw tight. Still, he agrees. "Then we won't."
There's a hesitation that wasn't there before, and I realize how he took that. The way it sounded.
"But I don't want to lie to her either." His shoulders relax as he searches my face. "If she asks or finds out somehow—we tell her the truth."
That's all it takes for him to reach for me, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me flush against him. I attempt to ignore the fact that he's hard between us, but my hips press involuntarily to his.
Liam's breath stutters. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at the pressure, but his eyes don't waver from mine. "I agree," he admits, his voice thick. "She doesn't need to know everything up front—I wouldn't tell her right away if it was someone else anyway." His hands tighten on my hips. "But I've never lied to her about anything."
