Page 39 of Break Point
“Is that a yes?”
“Mhm.”
“I promise I’ll behave.” His lips are now grazing mine, teasing me.
“What if I don’t want you to behave?” I tease back, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. A low, delicious groan rumbles in Liam’s throat.
“Then I’ll take back that promise.” He pins me against the wall and kisses me. His hand cups my face while the other pulls my body flush against his. His tongue parts my lips, and he angles my head back to deepen the kiss with soft, lazy strokes, making my otherwise strong knees feel like they might buckle under me.
He kisses me for a long moment as I feel his hands moving further down the curve of my waist. When I remember I have nosy neighbors, I break off the passionate kiss. I don’t want them catching me making out in the hall.
“Come.” I grab his hand and guide him inside the apartment.
I can’t even think straight. All I know is that I want to take Liam to my bedroom, like I wanted to do last week, before we got interrupted and he had to leave.
Robbie and Henry are hanging out in the kitchen when we walk in, and I instinctively brush my fingers over my swollen lips, feeling like I’m wearing a sign that says:I just made out with Liam outside.
Henry’s pulling a milk carton out of the fridge. He doesn’t bother looking at us. We’re non-existent.
“Beer?” Robbie offers. “Henry and I are going to watch the second half of the game. You’re welcome to join us.”
“No thanks,” I chirp, pulling Liam toward my bedroom at the far end of the hall past the kitchen. “No televised sports tonight.”
“Thanks, mate!” Liam shouts back. We’ve lost visual contact with them. “Just following orders!”
Robbie shouts back something unintelligible that sounds a lot like: “suit yourself” as we step inside my bedroom. I shut the door as Liam looks around, taking in the place. I walk over to my nightstand and turn the reading lamp on and the ceiling lights off.
The nerves are impossible to ignore.
Liam sits on the bed and taps the spot beside him.
“Hey,” I say, sitting next to him. My hair is down, and he’s taking his sweet time tucking it behind my ears.
“You’re beautiful.” He leans in, his gaze scanning my face and settling on my lips. I run my fingers through his buttery light brown hair, and he dives right into another kiss. He pushes my shoulders gently back on the bed, his lips still on mine. He squeezes my hips and breaks off the kiss. “I don’t like your new coach.”
I can’t help but laugh softly against his lips.
“And why would that be?” I drop a soft, playful peck on his lips.
“I didn’t fancy seeing you two holding hands in those photographs,” he confesses. “I want to be the one to do that. Not him.”
Jealousy pushed him to seek me out. It’s clear now.
“We got split up by the paparazzi, and they were closing in on me. Henry had to grab me and push our way out of there,” I explain, my fingers curling around his jaw as I cup his face. “Are you jealous?”
I like it when he is. It’s always adorable. Just like this, never overbearing.
“You bet I am,” he breathes, dragging a finger down my cheek and jawline. “He’s hot.”
I laugh. “How jealous?” My hands slide around his neck.
He places his lips on my ear and says, “Like I-want-to-do-something-naughty-to-you-to-teach-you-a-lesson kind of jealous.” I know he’s only saying this to give me a rush.
“That makes two of us,” I agree with him. Now I remember why I was mad at him: the photographs with that stunning redhead.
“Why? Did Gemma finally convince you to watch that movie I told you to avoid?” he says, and I laugh again.
There’s this movie in which Liam kisses the hell out of his co-star, among other things, and I’m not feeling inclined to watch it anytime soon.
