Page 89 of The Science of Attraction

And so I did, stroking myself back into the game while Liam thrust hard for what barely felt like seconds before he buried his face in my neck and came with a grunt and a couple of long strokes as his cock swelled and heat erupted inside me.

The sensation blew my fucking mind and almost sent me flying. But not quite. Then Liam’s hand found my cock, and while he was still camped out in my arse, he pumped me over the edge, my come spilling between us in a kind of weird baptism of grace.

Welcome to a new world, Jules Lane.

Blissfully fucked and pretty much catatonic, we lay in silence for what felt like hours, our breathing ticking down, the frantic heat of sex softening to this warm cocoon of emotion I couldn’t name. Outside the four walls of the cottage, the sound of the station cranked back to life—a quad spitting gravel up the drive, a falcon calling from somewhere above, an anxious ewe bleating for her lamb.

Liam lay on his side, his fingers trailing over my chest in ever decreasing circles, his voice uncertain. “Are you okay?”

I rolled to face him, kissing him soundly. “More than okay. I’m quiet because I have no words. Jesus, Liam, that was the most intense experience of my life, and I’m so grateful I got to share it with you.”

The tension left his shoulders and he smiled. “And me with you. That was amazing. And such a fucking privilege.” He kissed me long and slow, like he was savouring the moment. “I’ve missed you these past few days.”

I kissed the wingtip of the hawk on his right shoulder. “I’ve missed you too. But in some ways, I think it’s been good.” I smoothed my fingers over his answering frown. “It’s only highlighted how much you mean to me.”

He smiled a little shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I kissed the tip of his nose, then frowned at the uncertainty on his face. “Did you think I’d changed my mind about our plan or something?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. What you’re about to do, coming out to your dad, that’s a huge thing. You could lose everything you love.”

I got up on one elbow and stared down at him. “Not everything.” His eyes widened, but I left the comment vague. “And if you’re asking me whether you’re worth that risk, you absolutely are. But I’m not doing this just for you, Liam. This is for me. If you decided tomorrow that you didn’t want to follow through with our plan, I would still come out to my father. It’s my only real chance to live a free life, to be me. And if my father won’t let me do that, then I’ll live that life somewhere else.”

Liam said nothing for a moment, then he shook his head slowly, those beautiful hazel eyes glistening in the low light. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Jules Lane—” He pulled me back into his arms and pressed kisses to my hair. “—but I’m so fucking thankful, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t regret it.”

I lifted my head to capture his lips. “I’m sure we’ll both fuck up at some point. Let’s just agree to keep talking and not keep score. That’s the best we can do, right?”

He gave me the softest of smiles and nodded. “Agreed. No keeping scores.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Liam

“Oh. My. God.”A balled-up piece of paper landed on the desk, making me jump. “You are so sappy it’s screwing with my zen.”

I lobbed the ball back over my shoulder without looking. “You’re not supposed to be zenning,” I reminded Connor. “You’re supposed to be studying. Your first exam is in two weeks, right? And I amnotbeing sappy.”

“You are too.” He appeared at my shoulder, rolling his eyes at the reams of doodling scrawled over my research notes. “What a mess. And I can’t study because of all the gooey feelings leaking into my brain.”

I huffed out a laugh. “You can’t study because you haven’t opened your book.”

“Well, there is that,” he admitted, pulling a chair over from the dining table to sit beside me. The mottled blue and green palette surrounding his eye was on the wane, the swelling down to minimal, but the sight still made my heart squeeze. “Come on, Liam, I’ve been at it all week. My brain has a repetitive strain injury.”

I snorted and dropped the pencil I was holding onto the pile of useless notes.I’m falling for you, Liam.Okay, so I might’ve been a little bit sappy. “Your brain is the least of your worries. How many long showers a day does a boy need?”

He flushed. “What can I say? Hormones rule my life.”

“Along with your Google searches, onmylaptop.”

His flush deepened. “Mum doesn’t checkyoursearch history.”

I snorted. “I should hope not. But I’m betting she doesn’t check yours either.”

“What are you doing spying on me, anyway?”

My eyebrows popped. “See aforementioned argument—it’smylaptop. And I didn’t have to spy. Exactly how much straight porn do you think I watch that Google would suddenly start predictive texting my search forhot packsand offer mehot babes on spring vacationinstead?”

He bit back a smile. “Oops.”

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