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A familiar glimmer flickers in his blue eyes, and I take a step back, knowing it does little good. His long arm reaches out, taking my waist as he sets me on the granite. I chew my cheek, wanting to be annoyed, but this move of his—his attempt to eliminate the height difference and bring us eye level—has always been one of my weaknesses. It’s one of many ways he always tried to show we are equal. “Better?” he asks, setting a hand on either side of me and meeting my eyes. I glimpse down and realize he’s bent at the knees.
“How did you get in here?” Dammit, where’s the bite?
He reaches behind him and returns with a room key tucked between two fingers. “In my defense, I knocked first. Also called out for you. Heard my name and…” His shoulders lift, but his eyes travel to where the towel is tucked at my cleavage. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”
I feel everywhere his eyes lick as if they were his hands. His words skate over me like his mouth is tasting my heated skin. Gooseflesh erupts over every inch of me, but I’m anything but cold. I’m surprised the water droplets haven’t turned to steam.
Jesus, Lily, get a grip. You’re supposed to hate him for breaking your heart. Not turning into a wet, wanton slut. I shift my attention to the shower behind him and ignore the tattooed hands on either side of me. “Why do you have keys to my room?”
“In case of emergency.”
“What kind of emergency are you expecting?”
His hands move, gripping my knees and stroking slowly up my thighs. I hold my breath to keep myself from moaning and grit my teeth so I don’t spread my legs. “I hadn’t got that far.” His voice is gravel as he drops his face into my neck. “You smell so sweet, little flower.”
Do I make the conscious decision to tilt my head when his lips brush the sensitive skin? No. When his tongue swipes over my pulse, do I give myself permission to whimper with need? Absolutely not.
Do both happen?
Yes. Yes, they do.
When my knees part, I at least have the knowledge it took longer than five minutes.
Suck cocks, Thad.
“You are wound so tight, baby. I’m right here. You know the real thing is so much better.”
The heat from his fingers, oh so deliciously close to my soaked center, taunt me. My mouth opens, ready to say yes, please, and thank you when a phone rings.
My lashes flutter, eyes opening wide—no clue when they closed—and sense prevails. I slap my palm against his chest and push. “You need to get that. In your room.”
He growls when I hop off the vanity and shove past him. His fingers wrap around my upper arm, halting my steps. “I’d rather finish this.”
“It doesn’t matter what you’d rather. I’m engaged, remember?”
“Oh, I remember just fine.” His nostrils flare, and the muscles of his covered jaw tighten. “The question is, do you?”
My palm itches with the need to slap him. Words I shouldn’t say burn my tongue.
But I hold them back because for a second I did forget. For a weak moment, I forgot my anger, my fake engagement… everything. “You’re right. I forgot myself. I let our history cloud my judgment. It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, baby, we don’t have history. That implies we’re in the past—finished. We’ll never be done, and I’ll remind you over,” he dips a finger between my cleavage at the top of the towel, “and over until you admit it’s the truth.”
My lashes flutter, and I’m already forgetting what I just said. Thankfully, his phone rings again. When my lids lift, he’s smirking. “You should get that,” I bark, slapping his hand away. “And I need to get dressed.”
I shove him toward the door as he answers. He chuckles low as he tugs the door open. As soon as he’s out, I push it closed and slump to the floor.
There’s no way I’m making it four more days with my sanity intact.
Liam
Cymbals crash as the band sets up to audition at after-hours. The potent scent of pine infiltrates the atmosphere as a couple of guys run a mop over the floor by us, making me scowl. I hate eating while people clean around me. I really hate eating while the overpowering smell of pine trees drowns out the flavor of my burger.
“Mav, you know you’re talented as hell. You don’t need me to kiss your ass for you to understand why my bosses sent me.”
The man behind the bar looks up from the glass he wipes, his dark hair flopping across his forehead with a grin. His green eyes are full of curiosity and wariness. “Why would they want me when no other label will have me? I’ve been blackballed, remember?”
“You made a mistake.” I take my attention from the heart-shaped ass standing with the band and face him. “You got swept up in the chase for fame, mixed up with the wrong people. You think you should pay for that forever?”
