Page 83 of The Reno
He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “The kiss was everything, Kat. I haven’t felt this way about anyone. Ever. So I wanted to be careful. I wanted to do things properly. I’ve spent so much time fucking things up, and I can’t do that again. Not with you.”
His hand touched my elbow and traced it down to my palm tentatively. Exploring. Asking a question. I answered by touching him back. A flicker of relief on his face. It had taken a lot for him to confess.
His chest was heaving, his voice faltering.
Liam was nervous.
So, I made the first move.
I pushed up onto my toes and pressed my mouth against his.
TWENTY-FOUR
The shock seemed to ripple through his body, briefly freezing him. His hands came up to my face and into my hair. The kiss started slowly and softly as if it was only supposed to be a short kiss, a stolen moment at midnight. My feet were between his, his hand holding a runaway curl at my cheek. His lips were firm and unrelenting against mine but not pushing further.
And I wanted further.
So, I ran my hands into his hair and pulled gently.
Liam listened, answering my demands. He pushed me up onto the kitchen worktop, standing between my legs. My chest flush against his. Then, he deepened the kiss, all tongues and teeth.
“Since I first saw you in this kitchen, I’ve wanted to press you up against this counter,” Liam said, kissing down my neck. “Every day since, I wanted to taste you. See if you taste as sweet as you look.”
I made a noise that came out like a half moan, half complaint that he’d moved further from my lips. I was eating up these confessions like my life depended on it. Liam gently bit my neck, and a soft hum came from his throat. I pulled him closer again,drawing his lips to mine, where I wanted them. When his tongue brushed mine, I groaned.
He was good at this. Really good.
He touched, kissed, and pressed in all the right places. His arms roamed but kept me locked in on the counter. I was panting, wanting—no, needing—more from him.
“What do you want, Red?” Liam said, panting lightly. I glanced down and saw that he was impressively hard in his boxers.
“I want that,” I said, leaning over to caress him, but Liam’s hand touched my wrist. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the sensitive part of my wrist.
“Not yet.” He grinned. “It’s my turn first,” he said, kissing down my arm. “I’ve imagined these hands wrapped around my cock more times than I want to admit.”
I gave a surprised exhale at his words. “Dirty.”
“You have no idea.” He leaned forward, bringing his lips back to my neck, my collarbone. I guided his hands up to my breasts, and he caressed my nipples, and then he pinched, making me gasp.
“I could get off to that noise,” he said, his eyes meeting mine, molten. I began to unbutton my pyjama top, slowly, watching Liam’s face track every movement. His eyes tracked my breasts covered by my lace T-shirt bra. I knew he could see my nipples through the material by the way his eyes melted like chocolate. His hands trailed my waist, coming up and up, grazing over my nipples, making me squirm, needing more. I clasped my legs together, desperate. Liam watched the movement, a small smileon his lips.
“Can I?” he asked, and I nodded.
Liam pulled down my bra and pinched and teased. Then, he lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth, making me arch.
“Beautiful,” he murmured into my skin, “so fucking beautiful.”
“Liam—”
One of his hands made its way up my thigh, under my shorts, but lingered there. Waiting. Teasing.
“Please,” I panted, the cold of Liam’s kitchen counter burned under my thighs.
“What do you need, Red?” he asked, gently biting, inciting a gasp from me. “I want to hear it.”
“Touch me. Please.”
Liam hummed in appreciation, as if he liked those words on my lips. He pulled my shorts down in one quick movement. He was just how I imagined. Confident. Maybe a little cocky.
