Page 83 of The Season
I shake my head. “You were right though,” I whisper. “I lied to you.”
The feel of his eyes on mine is too much, and my gaze dips down the length of his body, his sculpted chest, that tattoo stark against his pale smooth skin, and then—quel bordel. I nearly choke on the spray from the shower because… That. Is. His. Cock. Right there. Much larger than I would have expected, given his height. And it’s just inches away from my own swimsuit-covered semi.
A semi which is very quickly turning into something much more obvious.
“Antoine.” Liam’s hand slides from my cheek to my neck, and I draw in a shuddering breath. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. If I could go back, change things… I should never have blamed you. Sixteen. You were sixteen.” His grip on my throat tightens, thumb stroking my pulse point. “How could I have blamed you? I should have handled it better. Shouldn’t have taken all my fear and self-loathing out on you.”
I blink at him in surprise, eyelashes heavy with the spray from the shower. “Fear?”
What could he have possibly been afraid of? When I’d met him, even before I knew who he really was, he was all confident swagger. He’d walked into that club like it was made just for him, and out of everyone there, he’s looked atme. Singled me out. And then, weeks later, when I found out who he really was—well, I couldn’t blame him for giving me a fake number.
He was an Olympian. A god of the snow. I had been barely more than a boy, pretending to be a man.
“Yes, fear.” He gives a low huff, lips cutting a sharp line. “I was fucking terrified. My first kiss with a man, and it blew my mind. You blew my mind. And then, to find out later that you were underage—I felt like such a creep. Never mind being shit scared of coming out. Of seeing my name blasted around on social media, in the snowboarding mags.” He shakes his head, dark hair dripping as he presses his forehead to my own, his eyelids fluttering shut. “None of that was on you.” His words brush against my lips like a caress. “It was on me. It was always on me.”
My heart thunders behind my ribcage, roaring louder than the shower echoing off the tile walls, a steady pulse in my ears.
“You gave me a fake number,” I say, my voice thready. How could he have felt all that? And for me? “I thought you never wanted to see me again. That you were blowing me off. That I was a bad kisser. That… that you weren’t into me.”
The moment the words leave my lips, I know they sound pathetic. ThatIsound pathetic.
Liam peels back, lifting one perfectly shaped brow, his eyes lifting at the corners as he narrows them at me. “That’s what you’re taking from all this?” Water sprays as he shakes his head, a hollow laugh escaping his throat. “No. No. I never wanted to see you again. You’d just shattered my entire fucking world with that kiss.” His voice is an angry hiss, teeth flashing as he speaks. “I thought I’d leave that club and you’d disappear from my world and everything would go back to normal. I’d go back to normal.”
The roar of the shower is a buzzing in my ear, and my heart sinks, stomach along with it, plummeting, swirling with the water in the drain beneath our bare feet.
Liam takes my face his hands, bringing his body flush against mine. “Thank god I was wrong.”
Lips crash with mine, warm and wet from the spray. Soft. Tongue delving deep, stealing my breath, pushing every last lingering doubt from mind, replacing it with a dizzying cacophony ofLiamandwants meandis this real.
His hand reaches between us, palming my cock where it’s throbbing against the soaked fabric of my swimsuit, one finger unerringly finding the tender head and pressing against my slit. I jolt like I’ve been electrocuted, bucking against his hand, then pulling back with a gasp, my back thudding against the slick tiles.
“Is this okay?” he asks, tugging my lower lip between his teeth, his hand stilling on my erection.
I nod wordlessly, a wide-eyed frantic movement that surely must expose exactly how inexperienced I am. Not exactly a blushing virgin, but not far off it either.
“I need your words, Antoine,” Liam rumbles, an echo of what he said to Lily in the hot tub earlier. Then, his tone, the commanding set to his jaw, it had been enough to have liquid fire rushing down my spine. Now…
I whimper against his lips, rocking my hips against his hand, more or less humping him.
Liam chuckles. “Let me get you off.” His nose brushes against my own, and I can feel the shape of his smile against my cheek. “You’re so hard. So fucking hard. One swallow, and I bet I’d have you coming down my throat.”
My vision whites out at his words, at the thought of what that would feel like, his throat around my cock, his lips stretching, those gray sharp eyes staring at me, damp with water and tears.
“Please,” I groan, my eyelids fluttering shut, the back of my head thudding against the tiles.
His hand tightens around my shaft, squeezing almost painfully as his thumb rolls over the head. “Or maybe I should make you come in your pants, like you did to me.” Teeth nip my ear, my throat, suckling kisses trailing to the juncture between my neck and shoulder. Kisses designed to leave a mark.
He works me in hard, long pulls, wet fabric rubbing against sensitive skin in a way that really shouldn’t feel as good as it does. His other hand slides down my chest, thumb circling one nipple before pinching it, tugging.
“Oh mon dieu,” I hiss, because everything feels like too much—his lips on me, his teeth, the water pelting my skin, and his hands…
He releases my cock, and for a brief moment, panic surges through me because I think that’s it, he’s going to stop. Liam takes one look at my open-mouthed expression and grins, and then his hand is slipping under my waistband, fingers wrapping around me, slick with water.
“Hmm.” He tugs his lower lip between his teeth, a look of unaffected bliss lighting up his sharp features at the feel of me in his hand. “You’re uncut.” The pads of his fingers gently toy with my foreskin, pulling it back just enough to expose more of the dripping head. “Oh, the things I want to do to you.”
That is, apparently, all it takes to send me over the edge.
Darkness shoots across my vision, heat rushing down my spine, a spiraling whiteout to rival the blizzard outside. I jolt in his hand, my cock kicking against his palm, stretching for him, and then liquid heat is filling my tight swim trunks, sticking to Liam’s hand and the fabric and my own skin.
