Page 28 of Because of Liam

She scoffs. “And just out of curiosity”—she narrows her eyes at me—“how exactly would that work?”

“Well, if you lose, you have sex with me and if I lose, I have sex with you.”

She raises one perfect eyebrow. “And that’s different how?”

I shrug. “It’s a win-win any way I look at it.”

“For you!” she accuses.

“For you too. You’ll get those multiple orgasms you keep talking about.”

“Once! I said it once!”

“Yes, I accept the challenge.”

“What challenge? I did not challenge you to do anything! And what will keep you from begging?”

“I never beg, and I’m not depriving myself of you begging me.”

She’s getting a little flustered. I love it when her cheeks are flushed and I get her off balance. She’s always so sure of herself, so firmly planted on her own two feet. I really, really want to affect her in the same way she affects me.

“It’s very unfair really if you think about it. Guys don’t get to have multiple orgasms. We’ve got one shot, and that’s it.”

“I’m not having sex with you!”

“Okay, we can do it the Clinton way then.”

“What the fuck is the Clinton way?”

“I lose, I go down on you. If you lose, you go down on me. Don’t worry. I won’t get anything on your dress.”

Her mouth drops, and she stares at me for a very long moment, and I worry I pushed her too far. With River I have no idea what her limits are. She never censors herself and is always in everyone’s face.

I would never, ever say anything like this to another girl, ever. It’s completely inappropriate and probably offensive as hell, but there’s something about River that pushes all my buttons at the same time—that makes me want to push back just to see what will happen.

I know deep down that someday I’ll go too far and maybe this is it. There will be a day I’ll say or do something so fucked up it’ll be the end of whatever this thing between us is. I love making her angry, love tipping her scales and pushing just to see what she’ll do or say next and every time I see her—which is often enough being that our siblings are in each other’s pants 24/7—I have the need to poke at her with a very short stick and watch mayhem unfold.

At night I relive those moments and laugh myself to sleep.

But right now, I’m a bit worried as I wait for her answer. It’s the longest I’ve ever seen her take with a comeback.

And then the thing I least expect happens. She starts to laugh. And she’s laughing so hard, she’s holding her sides, nearly dropping her drink, and she has tears coming down her face. It takes me a moment to figure she’s not mad. She’s amused. Then I start laughing too because when someone is laughing that hard you can’t help but join in.

She’s wiping her tears away and trying to catch her breath. “Oh, oh my God—oh my God.” Then she lifts her left hand to high five me. “Good one,” she says, but as I slap her hand, I grab it and shake it.

“Okay, we got a deal then,” I say.

Her small hand in mine stills. “What?” She sobers fast. “I did not agree with anything. There’s no deal.”

“Yes, there is, we just shook on it. In fact, we’re still shaking on it. That’s a deal and if you try to get out, you forfeit and lose.”

She looks from my face to our hands still joined and tries to pull away, but I easily pull her closer to me so our bodies are touching.

“There’s no deal. There’s no bet.”

I grin at her. “The way I see it, you can forfeit and lose now, or give it a shot and lose later. Either way, this bet is on. We shook on it. So, what’s it gonna be?”

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