Page 27 of Believe it or Knot

He looks down at me, considering, then gives a begrudging nod. “Okay, let’s go check it out, rich boy.”

My mouth drops open at his rudeness, though it shouldn’t surprise me. Gage isn’t known for being polite and people still love him.

But Rafe just laughs, slapping his hands on his thighs and standing up. “Come on, I’ll show you. Liam’s been not so subtly begging me to give him and Sorrel some time alone.” My gaze flies to the omega who is glowering at his alpha, but then, as if he feels my attention on him, he turns to smile bashfully at me.

“You can’t blame me, can you?”

“Not at all,” Rafe says at the same time Gage lets out a quiet, “no.” My head whips toward him so fast I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash, to find him looking down at me with this expression on his face that I’ve never, ever seen before. It’s so completely foreign that I don’t fully comprehend what it is, not until he’s brushed a soft kiss on my forehead, and then pushed to a stand. Not until he’s followed Rafe back inside.

Longing… Gage was looking at me with pure, unadulterated longing, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.

I’m staring after him when Liam slips into the space next to me, his warm, hard thigh pressing into mine. “Hey.” He nudges my shoulder with his, drawing my attention. God, he’s so pretty with the firelight reflecting off his dark red hair, the angles of his face shown in stark relief.

“Hey.”

“How are you after everything?”

My head tilts as I consider his question. “This is going to sound so bad, but I’m totally fine. I—don’t get mad—but I’ve been through worse with Stephen than just a few burns.” I hate admitting that, hate telling him the truth. Gage doesn’t even know the shit I’ve been through with the Stillwell pack. But there’s something about Liam that makes me want to tell him everything. The feeling is directly at odds with my normal inclination to pretend like everything is okay, like I am okay.

A low growl rumbles from him. It’s sort of cute, actually, not really all that menacing. But maybe that’s just because I know deep in my bones that Liam would never do anything to hurt me, at least not physically. My heart is another matter entirely. “I fucking hate that, lovely,” he murmurs, reaching up to cup my cheek. “I hate that you’ve ever felt one ounce of pain.”

My mouth quirks into a half smile. “Pain is a part of life, Liam. Everyone feels it, everyone heals from it. The pain is what makes the sweet times that much better.”

His thumb skates over my bottom lip, making my breath catch and low in my belly throb with heat. It’s amazing that just the single simple touch is enough to make me so freaking horny.

“Is this one of those times, lovely?” He murmurs, voice heavy with lust, gaze focused on my mouth. “One of those sweet times?”

I can’t answer. Not right away. My voice seems to have deserted me completely, because this is Liam fucking Cordova with his thumb on my mouth, his gaze hot and wanting. My tongue darts out on instinct to buy myself some time and, of course, that means that I lick him.

“Lovely, lovely, Sorrel,” he groans, thumb sweeping back and forth again, smearing my saliva on my lips.

Horrifyingly, I whimper. I’ve never whimpered in my freaking life, but here I am making noises I can’t contain.

Liam’s lips curl into a smirk, loving the effect he has on me. But it’s not just me, is it? It’s any girl in the world, and probably most of the men, too. Married, in a relationship, single, young and old, if Liam Cordova strokes your lip, you melt into a puddle of sexy hormonal goo. Even if the words hormonal and goo are the farthest thing from sexy.

The point stands, I could be anyone to him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmurs. “And you’re going to let me.”

It’s a statement and not a question, but I still nod. “Yes.” The one word comes out husky and deep, not like my normal voice at all.

Another flash of a smirk before he’s bending closer to me. His fingers tighten on my chin, holding me in place like he’s worried I might retreat, change my mind. But there’s no way in hell I’d do that. This might be my one chance to know what this is like. To kiss Liam and feel his hands on me. A treasured memory I’ll hold on to for years to come, probably for the rest of my life. Something I’ll pull out when I’m eighty and wrinkled to remember my youth.

“Good girl,” he whispers, just as his lips touch mine.

Explosions. Fireworks. Warmth and heat and breathless moments flavored with blueberry cheesecake.

That’s what kissing Liam is like.

His fingers slide from my chin into my hair, gripping the strands to tug my head back so I’m at the right angle for him to kiss me deeper when his tongue plunges into my mouth. I hadn’t even been aware of my lips parting, but they are, and he’s taking full advantage. His free arm loops around my body, tugging me closer until my chest presses to his. It’s apparently not close enough though, because he pulls back from my lips, just long enough to lift and turn me until I’m settled on his lap, straddling him.

The hard ridge of his cock nestles against my heated core, and we both groan before we’re kissing again.

And yes, this is better. My arms loop around his neck, one hand pressing between his shifting and flexing shoulder blades and the other tangles in the silky strands of his deep red hair. He slides his hand back into my bun and the other grips my hip, encouraging me to move over him.

I do and the next few minutes are frenzied, a blur of mouths and tongues and teeth, pleasure mounting between my legs, even though I’ve never done anything like this before. Nothing. I don’t climb on men’s laps and grind my pussy over their hard dicks. Never.

This… This isn’t normal for me.

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