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He locks my gaze. “We’re done with the small talk, Jilly.” He smirks at me. Christ, it’s sexy as fuck.
We go back to making out. I feel how hard he is and my clit is dying for some friction. I move closer and buck into him a little.
“Fuck, woman. I need all of you, soon.” I moan into him as he kisses me pressingly again. “Where are you staying tonight? Your dad’s? Deb’s?”
“Rittenhouse Hotel.”
He answers quickly, “That’s what you think.” He explores under my skirt and almost reaches my ass. I gasp. “We have to get back out there. Bev will wonder.”
“I’ll deal with Ma. You stay here. I’ll visit as often as possible.” He kisses me in between sentences, like a punctuation mark on his words.
“Like a sex captive? Do you have a James Brown/R. Kelly thing I should know about?” The loud laugh from this ultra-intelligent and funny individual validates strange parts of my ego.
“I’ll reluctantly share you with the rest of the party, but who said anything about sex?” he says pointedly, raising his eyebrows in faux protest.
“Just making a joke.” I quickly cover.
He twists my hair around his hand and directs my face back to his lips. “Not a joke.”
I’m in a fucking fervor from the way he’s commanding me. Maybe it’s our familiarity, or perhaps this is who he is sexually. Age and experience have made me more cautious, but he seems more confident. I want to let go. He’s strong enough to take the full Jillien experience. I know I won’t scare him off.
I say exasperatedly, “What the fuck is happening?”
“Well, we’ve established we’re going to fuck later.”
My turn to laugh. “This is strange, no?”
He says, “Quite an unexpected turn to the evening. But somehow doesn’t feel strange.”
I stare into his blue eyes that match the stripes in his plaid shirt. I place my hand on his cheek. “That’s the strange part.” We pause our frenzy.
I whisper, “Kiss me again, Liam Penrose Fletcher.”
“It’s my lifelong desire, Jillien Ellis Thompson.” I scoot to the edge of the washing machine and grind slightly against him. “Oh God, Jill.”
“I’m overcome with reckless desire for someone I’ve known most of my life.” Finally, I stop and stare at him in disbelief.
He says, “Desire, huh?”
I say in a voice riddled with need, “I’m rubbing up on you like a cat in heat. What would you call it?”
He twists my hair for a moment, then, with a bit of tug, says, “How about we just go with it? No judgment. Let’s not define or explain it. Just enjoy.” He bends my head back and traces my jaw with his lips.
He stops abruptly and says, “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy. Ahh. We have to stop. Give me your phone.” He adds his number.
“Are you going to call me and ask me out? I have a pretty full December.”
He tickles me a little above my right hip, and I giggle. “We have ten minutes for any rendezvous before we’ll be missed. Not wasting another second on talking. Text me.”
I hop off the washer. Liam moves behind me and leans down, kissing my neck and staring at my cleavage. I tilt my head to the left to give him better access. It feels so good. I quietly gasp as he nips and sucks on my neck. He wanted me all this time. He pined for me. Or used to. I’m so fucking lucky.
“This is a lovely view.” I know he’s staring at my chest.
I reach up behind me and haphazardly stroke the beard. “We might need to condition it before it gets anywhere near other parts of me.”
He growls in response. Even that is sexy as hell.
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