I suppose I did start it, but he gave me a nickname first.
“I’m a bit more a German Shepherd or maybe a black cat. I’m definitely not a Golden Retriever and I sure as hell am not a cinnamon roll.”
I reach up, my thumb grazing his dimple as he scowls at me and I lean in and kiss him softly. “You don’t get to pick your nickname.”
“Says who?” Liam grumbles. “And if anyone’s the black cat in this relationship, it’s you, babe.”
“What?” My mouth drops.
“Come on, you’re mysterious, independent, slow to trust but fiercely loyal and affectionate once you open up. Does that not describe you?”
I claw and hiss at him as if I were a cat and Liam chuckles, pulling me against his chest. “Point proven.”
“Are you going to start calling me your black cat now?” I ask, curled against his chest. I drape a leg over his, pulling him closer, and shiver. Without his constant barrage of kisses, my body is cooling off quite a bit.
“No, I prefer firebreather.” Liam leans in, brushing his lips over mine. “Like you said, you don’t get to pick your nickname.” His arm is snug around my waist, and he pulls me above him as he rolls onto his back.
“And I prefer cin bun,” I tease as he groans and shuts his eyes.
“Come on, anything else. You can’t call me that in front of my friends.”
Oh, I can, and he’d never live it down, but I don’t want to be mean. At least that isn’t my intention with the nickname. I like Liam, I’m not trying to torment him, this isn’t grade school all over again. “I can’t call you cin around them?”
Liam is quiet, and I can’t tell if he’s contemplating my question or ignoring me.
I’m only met with silence.
“I mean, cin could be sinful.” I shift slightly, leaning on my hands to stare down at him. “Don’t be mad. It’s just a nickname. I wouldn’t call you my cin bun if I didn’t like you.”
He snorts. “Seems like you hate me. Why don’t you just call me your little bunny rabbit?”
I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his nose. “You’re grumpy. I bet I know one way to cheer you up.”
He forces a pout. “Nope. Won’t work.”
I lean down, kissing his bottom lip that juts out, and his fingers ease along my hip and dance across my stomach, making my insides flutter.
“Still mad at you,” he grumbles under his breath between kisses.
“You wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t care about me,” I counter, kissing his lips and moving a trail of soft kisses across his jaw and down his neck.
There’s a slight hum in the back of his throat and his fingers dig into my flesh as I crawl down his chest, licking and kissing his skin.
Each breath and sound tells me what he enjoys. The way his body moves and shifts slightly under my weight encourages me to move my lips farther south, across his nipples and over his stomach.
“Bristol,” he grumbles, and I glance up at him, my breath hovering over his pubic bone.
“If we’re just going to cuddle tonight, we should probably go to bed.” His voice is hoarse and rough.
I glance down at his cock as it twitches, and I hesitate, not wanting to force him if he’s not ready tonight. He had a long day. “Too tired after your game?”
He clears his throat, his voice strained. “That isn’t it. I’m always wide awake when you’re in my bed,” he rasps.
“There’s a way to fix that.” I brush my lips against his neck and up his jaw. “I don’t just want to cuddle tonight, Liam. I’m ready.”
A smile curves at his lips. “Are you sure? We can always wait or stop if you’re not comfortable. I don’t want you having a problem?—”
“I’m fine,” I reassure him and move his hand to my heart. “A normal number of beats.”
