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"They don't want you. They think you're sexy, but they don't know you," he clarified, pressing his lips to my ear. I closed my eyes and turned my hips in a slow circle. If someone had glanced over they would have thought we were dancing. Our bodies were moving slowly against one another, but in reality we were waging war. When I pressed my hips back against him harder, he groaned angrily in my ear.
"And what about the girl you were talking to earlier? Does she know you or does she just think you're sexy?"
"You don't get to be jealous, Kinsley. We aren't together," he bit back, gripping my waist in his hand and pulling me harder against him. I leaned my head back against his chest and he tilted his head down so that I could see his eyes. Our lips were so close he could have bent down just a few inches and kissed me. It would have been so easy.
"Then same goes for you, Liam. Why don’t you let me go? Besides, you aren’t allowed to touch me, or have you forgotten that I’m off-limits?”
That’s the first time I thought about our situation from his perspective. If I was being tortured, he was right there with me, except he had it worse. He was in the position of power. If he took advantage of me— the young, naïve student— he’d take the fall for it.
His expression darkened and his gaze shifted from my eyes down to my lips. We were going to keep throwing digs at one another because that's all that we could do. We weren't allowed to be together. Hell, we shouldn't have even been dancing, but we were both helpless to the moment.
I should have pulled away, he should have left me alone, but then something happened that served as the final catalyst for our illicit romance.
The lights cut out.
It was already dim before, but then the room turned pitch black. Someone must have hit the light switch.
Who knew how long it would last, but Liam didn't wait to find out. He twisted me around, pulling me to his chest, and kissed me so hard that I let out a little yelp. I recovered quickly, opening up for him, tilting my head and letting him slide his tongue over mine. It sent lust swirling through my body. I picked my leg up, twisting it around his hip. One of his hands left my waist and he helped pin my long leg around him. He groaned into my mouth and I completely lost myself in him.
"Leave them off!" someone yelled, and I smiled against his mouth. It was like the world had given us a momentary break from the rules. A hall pass. We were in the dark, in the middle of a crowded dance floor, but no one could see us. One hand drifted higher up my skirt while his other hand pulled me against him so I could feel him against my spanks.
"God," I groaned, dragging our hips together. Would the lights stay out long enough for him to take me right here?
"You're so fucking sexy, Kinsley," he moaned into my ear. "Do you know what I want to do to you? What I imagine doing to you every time I see you?"
His words were fueling the fire between us. I responded by skimming my hands under his shirt, feeling his impossibly toned abs. His skin was hot and smooth, and his muscles were coiled, as if he were restraining himself from what he actually wanted to do to me.
We were just on the edge of falling… and then the lights flicked on and we flew apart.
Chapter Twelve
Our breathing was erratic and heavy as we tried to piece together the last few minutes. We were standing a foot away from each other and the lights kept flickering on and off as someone continued to play with them.
I pressed my palm to my stomach, feeling my diaphragm spasm in response to our secret kiss.
Everything in life was a hazy mess. In the past few days I’d had ten million decisions fall across my lap: Fight Tara or deal with her crap? Do the interview with Brian King or keep my life as private as possible?
But that cloud of uncertainty didn’t reach Liam.
He was the northern star. I had no choice but to become enveloped in his brightness and let it coax me toward him. Wanting him was an unconscious impulse, like taking my next breath.
And now, without a doubt, I knew he wanted me, too.
"You're not in costume," I murmured, glancing over his faded jeans and black shirt that fit him so well I swore they'd been designed with his proportions in mind.
The edge of his mouth curved up. "I'm not a costume type of guy."
