Page 54 of Miss Understanding

“Oh, one of the ladies told me to get coffee from the storage room. I guess it’s at the end of this hall. I heard you in here, but I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His face softened. “You didn’t. Come on. I’ll help you get the coffee.”

We walked in silence to the end of the hall where we found the gray door the church lady had described. Opening it revealed a small closet with shelves on one side containing staple items like coffee. On the other side were brooms and dustpans. I reached up to the tall shelf, but it was a good six inches too high. Thankfully, Liam reached over me for the assist, giving me one of his rare smiles.

We both froze at the woman’s voice behind us. “There you are. Although I would’ve preferred the restroom, I can certainly take your mind off of things in the supply closet just as well, sugar.”

I turned around, realizing Liam’s body was blocking me from view. Tonya had thought it was only him in front of the closet.

His gaze met mine, a mixture of annoyance and humor in the depths of it. “You okay with another fake rescue?” he murmured, drawing my hungry gaze to his full lips.

“What did you have in mind?” My voice was breathless. My mind raced with the possibility of pretending to be his girlfriend again.

He turned to face his high school ex. “I’m down here with Kendall, but again, I appreciate you telling me where we could get some privacy.”

I peeked around him to watch her face turn red, and I parroted his words. “Yes. Appreciate it.”

But she didn’t leave right away. Not until Liam faced me, placing his hands at my hips and leaning down as if he was about to kiss me, pausing at the last second.

I barely registered the sound of her walking away. Instead, my hands found their way around his neck, my body inching closer to his until we were touching. I should have pulled away now that she was gone. But I couldn’t. Instead, we closed the gap, and suddenly his mouth was on mine.

His full lips soft to the touch, yet possessive in his exploration. Heat coursed immediately through my body with the contact.

A throaty moan was my response when he moved the kiss to my neck.

“We should stop,” he whispered against my ear.

“Uh-huh. Or we could ensure she gets the message in case she comes back.” It was an excuse. A flimsy excuse to keep kissing him.

He nibbled my bottom lip. As soon as his tongue entered my mouth again, I seized it, sucking on it lightly and causing him to growl. It was as if a switch had been flipped. No longer were we tentative and exploring. We were carnal.

His hands gripped my ass, and he lifted me up onto the shelf while he kicked the door closed.

The darkness was immediate, but I didn’t care once he stepped in between my legs. Oh, God, I could feel him hard against me. I practically rolled my hips into his at the erotic contact. I needed him. It was clear by the way his hands were quickly moving my dress up that he needed me, too. We were both desperate for more. My hands fumbled with his belt while he made quick work out of yanking down my thong. Next he began searching for what I assumed was his wallet.

“Shit, no condom.”

My hands halted, disappointment hitting me hard. “I’m not on the pill.” Not that pregnancy was the only reason we shouldn’t go bare.

He cursed, bending his head to my neck. The sensation of his heavy breath in my ear was giving me shivers. So was the fact that we were unbelievably close.

Suddenly he turned around. It sounded as though he was pulling up his trousers. I seemed to be on my own for getting down from the shelf. I clumsily did so, pulling up my thong and trying to straighten my dress.

I was at a loss for words, waiting for him to say something.

Finally, he opened the door, letting in the light.

While his back was still turned, I smoothed my hair down. I was sure my lips were swollen, making me appear like I’d been fucked senseless.

The thought we’d been doing this in the basement of the church holding his father’s funeral instantly shamed me.

“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively.

He finally spun around and made eye contact. Barely. His expression had regret written all over it. Even his voice was small. “I need to get back upstairs.”

Right. To return to his grieving family. This had been a bad idea all the way around. “Of course. You should go.” I needed a moment to calm myself before I could be seen again.

He took a step, then turned back toward me, opening his mouth but evidently deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he simply left without another word, leaving me there with tears in my eyes and shame heavy on my shoulders.