Page 68 of Mostly Loathing You


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Liam’s lips press to my inner thigh as he ghosts a tender kiss against my flesh. His hand rests on the counter as he pulls himself up to stand. I watch as his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, wiping my arousal away, but the memory lingers.

My chest heaves as I attempt to catch my breath, my orgasm so intense that I think I forgot to breathe.

“So, pie?” He grins.

“Yes, pie.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

LIAM

A blaring noise reverberates through the air. I jerk up in bed, blinded by the light streaming through the blinds and into my sleepy eyes. My phone wiggles on the nightstand, vibrating against a glass of water and making a telltale clink. A knot tightens in my stomach as I grab my phone and clumsily punch the answer button on the screen before pressing it to my ear.

“Hello?” My groggy voice is raspy and faint.

“Are you coming in?” At first I think it’s my dad, but as I come to, I realize the voice on the other end of the phone is far too calm to be him.

“Huh?” I rub my eyes, both to dissolve the physical effects of sleep and to block out the sun.

“Are you coming into work? It’s almost ten.” The concern in their voice jerks me out of my daze, and the realization that it’s Jackson causes my stomach to hit the floor.

It’s Monday and, now that I think of it, I don’t think I set my alarm last night—and clearly neither did Hannah.

“Shit!” I jump out of bed, stirring Hannah in the process. “I’ll get there as quickly as possible.”

“Hey man, don’t sweat it. Hannah isn’t here either, must be something in the air. Have you heard from her?”

“Why would I have heard from Hannah?” It comes out far too panicked and defensive for what the question warrants.

“Uh, because she might have texted you to let you know she’s not coming in?” If he’s suspicious, he doesn’t let it show.

“Oh, uh, no, I haven’t heard from her. I’ll see you in a bit, man, I gotta get ready.”

“Roger that. See you in a bit.”

The clear click on the other end of the phone spurs me into action as I toss my phone onto the sheets. I desperately want to crawl back into bed; the beautiful blonde still fast asleep has me considering making up an emergency.

No, Liam. That’s a terrible idea.

“Hannah.” I attempt to whisper but it comes out more like a frantic gasp.

She, however, doesn’t budge in the slightest.

“Hannah.” I try to be louder, to little avail.

She starts to stir, causing the white satin sheet draped across her naked body to fall down to her waist. I groan at the sight, tamping down any carnal thoughts I have in this moment. We don’t have the time, but I wish we did.

I could go for round four.

“Princess,” I whisper against her neck before pressing a featherlight kiss against her flesh. The small gesture is clearly a terrible mistake as the blood flow in my body shifts instantly.

She groans against her pillow, trying to ignore me.

“Hannah, we’re late for work.”

Everything up until this point hasn’t ignited her urgency, but this seems to.

“What?” She’s still half asleep and hazy, but I’m hopeful the question means she’s getting up.

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