"It’s the principle of the matter," I said, not bothering to look up from my cell phone.
"I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that. I’m not usually the bar fight type." He fell into step beside me.
"I thought the Scots were famous for their fighting."
"We are," he said with a grin. "We usually save it for the battlefield though."
I thought of the number of unprovoked advances I’d endured over the years and the amount of time I’d spent planning tactical strategies with my friends. From tag-teaming a hottie to escaping the handsy jerks, we’d developed our game plan over the years. "The bar is the modern battlefield."
"If every time you go out it’s like that, you might have a point," he said.
We’d reached the corner and I still had no reply from either of my friends, so I pocketed my phone. "I’m heading home. I’ll catch you on Tuesday."
"No way," Liam said. "I can’t let you walk home alone."
"You’ve done your time. Defended my honor. I’ve got it from here." It was only a few blocks and well-lit. I’d walked it a dozen times in my time at Olympic State.
"I think I’m honor-bound to see you home after you left the bar for me."
"I left the bar because that was totally unfair," I said. "That guy was about three drinks shy of becoming a date rapist, but they kicked you out."
"See?" he said, his lips curving up. "You defended my honor."
"And you defended mine. That makes us even."
"I would rather be in your debt," Liam admitted.
I started to protest when the tell-tale first drop of a Pacific Northwest storm splatted on my forehead. This was why I always had a plan for getting home from the bar. It was way too inconvenient to carry a slicker and wellies with me everywhere, and now I was trapped in the start of an epic thunderstorm.
Liam quickened his pace, waving for me to run with him. I bounded a few steps before my ankle twisted under me.
"Shit!" I yelped as I got my balance back.
"You okay?" he asked, wrapping an arm around me like he was going to help me stagger home.
"I’m fine, but there’s no way I can run in these."
The rain picked up in intensity, pelting us with fat, cold drops. A splinter of lightening cut across the sky. It was going to be one of those rare storms that was more intense than long-lasting. I shook the rain off my face and wiped it from my eyelashes, opening my eyes to see Liam squatting in front of me.
"What are you doing?" I called over a blast of thunder.
"Jump on," he said.
"You can’t be serious."
"I generally don’t joke around when I’m in the middle of drowning. Let me carry you."
I took a deep breath and hoisted myself onto his back. His hands found my knees and locked onto them. I couldn’t resist the urge to bury my face into the back of his neck. I told myself it was to avoid being assaulted by more water, but that didn’t explain why I enjoyed his soap-clean scent and the hint of cologne I found there.
"Now I’m in your debt," I told him as he began jogging toward my apartment complex.
"I’ll think of a way for you to pay me back."
"So is that really why you wear kilts?" I asked him. My mind was already concocting a variety of ways to repay him for what seemed like a feat of god-like proportions.
"Pants are a modern oppression on men," he said. "I would wear a kilt every day."
I’d seen Liam’s calves before and couldn’t help but think if anyone could rock a kilt, he could.
He managed to get us into the complex’s stairwell within five minutes, and despite running the whole way with me on his back, he wasn’t even winded. His stamina was certainly impressive. I wondered briefly if I should test it further. Once we were out of the rain, I shimmied off his back and glanced at my locked apartment door.
"It’s late," I said, feeling awkward suddenly. I was used to bringing guys home, but not many had carried me there.
"I should get going while I’m still wet," he said as he twisted his t-shirt, wringing out some of the rain.
"No way. I’m in your debt, remember?" I said. "This storm won’t last long, and I have a dryer."
My hands shook a little as I unlocked my door and flipped on the light switch. I made a beeline for the cabinet and grabbed for my pill bottle. I had it down before he’d managed to tug his soaked shoes off.
"What’s that?" he called.
I stuffed the bottle back behind the plates and grabbed my Chiclets box, popping a few in my mouth. "The greatest gum on Earth."
"And you’re not going to offer me any?”
"My bad." I offered him the box and watched as he poured a few into his hands.
"Amazing," he said as he chewed.
"I know."
"No, it’s amazing that it’s just like chewing little rubber balls."
I smacked him on the shoulder. "I want my Chiclets back."
Before I could even consider what I’d said, his mouth was on mine. I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to glide across my tongue. Our skin was slick with rain, and I could make out the contours of his muscles as I slid my fingers over his clinging t-shirt. His hands seized my ass, pulling me up and around him as he pressed me against the door to my apartment. Every movement, every slight change in his body mirrored mine in natural, graceful precision. His lips traced secrets down my neck coming to rest at the top of my breasts.
"We should get out of these wet clothes," I breathed into his ear.
Liam set me down on the floor and pulled off his shirt. Without his lips to distract me, I realized the amount of gum in my mouth had doubled.
"Did you just pass off your Chiclets to me?" I asked, popping my shoes off my feet.
"You said you wanted them back." He grinned as he unbuttoned the fly of his jeans.
"If you can’t appreciate a thing of beauty…" I yanked my sweater over my head. Liam’s eyes drooped lustily to my breasts.
"Believe me, I appreciate beauty."
I dropped the rest of my clothes in a wet pile by the door and raised an eyebrow at Liam. He met my challenge by dropping his jeans, revealing the swell of him in his tight, gray boxer briefs.
"It’s true what they say about Scots," I said.
Liam reached for me, and I met him with urgency as we stumbled down the hall to my bedroom. His hands wandered like a traveler exploring a new and foreign country—excited and hesitant at the same time. When we tumbled onto my bed, I pulled my lips from his.
“We can stop,” he said, but even as he extended the invitation I knew neither of us could go back.
“I feel scared,” I admitted through panting breaths.
“Look at you using ‘I’ terms,” he whispered. “Professor Markson would be proud.”
“Clearly, I deserve an A in that class.” I giggled nervously as his hand trailed along my bare stomach, tracing the outline of my belly button and igniting a ring of fiery longing deep within my core.
“What are you scared of?” he asked.
I nuzzled my face into his neck and held my breath for a moment before I answered. “I’m no good at this. At relationships.”
“I think you’re wrong about that.” His hand stroked my hair from my face.
“I fuck them up. I don’t know how to be a good girl.”
“Exactly what is a good girl?” he asked. “Because you’re smart and passionate and funny, which lands you squarely in good girl territory for me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m mean. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“I’ve heard you talking about Jess and Cassie,” he reminded me. “You are good at relationships.”
Except for all the times I’d pushed them away or yelled at them for trying to help me. Liam had no idea how big of a bitch I could be.
“I don’t fuck Jess and Cassie,” I pointed out.
“I need you to understand something, Jillian,” Liam said in a low voice, his words warm against my ha
ir. “You don’t fuck me either. Not anymore. We make love.”
I bit back a laugh at this. “That’s something that I’m definitely not any good at.”
“Lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.” He pushed my hair aside and gripped my chin, bringing my lips to meet his. The kiss was soft and deep, slipping into something serious. His hands didn’t waver. Instead, he held my face and my belly with gentle strength, forcing me to focus on the press of our lips. His tongue brushed the back of my teeth, and I nipped at it, causing him to growl lowly and shift his body, but he didn’t bring it into closer contact with mine. Our tongues massaged into one another’s, and he sucked mine tenderly, sending a thrill pulsing between my legs. I could feel myself growing hotter as my body squirmed trying to get closer to him. But he didn’t relent on the kiss, and I found myself falling deeper into a haze of lust and longing, eager for his hands to explore my body, ready to press my skin against his.
Liam’s mouth trailed down my jawline, and he lingered at the hollow of my neck, breathing life into my chest and setting my heart to racing with the anticipation of his trek downwards. But he didn’t continue. Instead, he hooked his hand around my head and pulled me gently up to meet his lips, his other hand cradling my back and pulling me against his firm chest. My breasts brushed against his pectorals and a tremor raced down my spine. I needed him like I needed to breathe. He sat up and brought me up to meet him, guiding my legs around his waist. I felt him swelling against my thigh, making my body ache with emptiness. I pushed against him, feeling the length of him, causing my core to stir and pulse with desire.
“Do you—?” he let the question fade away as I reached to my nightstand and pulled a condom from the drawer.
There was no need for more words and a moment later, he slid into me and the ache was replaced with mounting energy. His arms hooked under my shoulders and gripped my back, holding me steady as we moved together rhythmically. Liam’s lips found my breasts, and he circled my right nipple with his tongue, loosing a moan from me as I threw my head back so he could have better access and bit my lip as he sucked each nipple with slow, but eager hunger. Drawing me back to him, the cadence of our movements became faster. He pushed deep inside me and I met each thrust with force, wanting him, all of him, as much of him, as I could have.
My body trembled, each muscle contracting, growing tight with anticipated release. I squeezed my eyes shut resting my head against his, our sweat mingling together, my breath stolen from his own.
“I think you’re amazing,” he whispered, the words tickling my earlobe and shivering down my swollen nerves. My body burst into flames, pleasure splintering through me in great, tremulous surges as he held me, pumping deep inside of me. I felt his muscles tense against me, and he groaned as he came in furious thrusts.
I melted against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and counting the beats of his heart as they thumped against my skin. Our breathing slowed and he brought his lips to mine as he withdrew from me, lessening the exquisite agony of emptiness I felt between my legs. He laid me back across the bed and brought his body close, cocooning me in his arms. He hummed something soft in my ear as I felt sleep taking over my body. I wanted to ask him to stay. I wanted him to be there in the morning, but I didn’t know what to say. I’d spent all my energy for the last few weeks pushing him away. How was I supposed to expect him to stay with me now?
“Liam—”
“Shhh,” he hushed me, kissing the nape of my neck. “Get some sleep. In the morning, I’m making waffles.”
I settled into my dreams still smiling.
Chapter Eleven
I woke to a familiar vanilla scent wafting through my house. I rolled over in my otherwise empty bed and stretched my arms wide to shake off the sleep still lingering in my limbs. And then I realized something.
Liam had stayed. He was making me breakfast. When I got up and walked into the kitchen, he would be there and that didn’t scare me. It made me happy. Really and truly happy. I wasn’t sure what had shifted overnight to allow that, but then again, if I was being honest, things had been evolving with Liam for a while now. I had tried to ignore that fact, but I couldn’t any more.
My bedspread was MIA and pillows were scattered on the floor, so I grabbed the loose top sheet and wrapped it around me. It felt like a very movie star thing to do. Wrap a sheet around my naked body and go out to my boyfriend.
The heady feeling evaporated immediately. Boyfriend? Had I really just mind-bombed myself with that? Liam was many things to me. Friend, classmate, adorably vulgar Scottish boy. But was he my boyfriend? He had used the term making love last night, and I knew he was all in then. That was perfectly obvious since the first day I couldn’t get him out of my kitchen.
I didn’t know how I felt about it though. I’d managed to avoid boyfriends for years. Not only did they require a lot of maintenance, but it was nearly impossible to keep them from finding out about my condition. And then came the questions, followed by the concern and the nagging, and finally it always ended with:
"I’m not sure I can handle this."
I could barely handle it myself, but some guy who has known me a few weeks wasn’t sure how he could handle it? As Cassie would say, fuck you very much. Being unattached was easier, but then again, Liam came with an expiration date himself. He had to be back In Edinburgh in June. Maybe if I looked at the whole relationship like a short-term lease or a really long vacation, it wouldn’t be so bad. In June we could return back to our normal lives.
No harm done. That’s what I told myself as I shuffled toward the bathroom as quickly as possible. I brushed my teeth, repeating my doctor’s mantra in my head. Today is normal. Today I am strong. Glancing in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel sexy, wrapped in a sheet with a just-fucked glow on my face. Don’t get cocky, I thought and headed for the kitchen. Liam’s face split into a smile when he saw me. His hair was messy and uncombed, and I could almost see where my fingers had clutched it the night before. I admired his bare chest and how his muscles flexed ever so slightly as he grabbed a whisk or reached for the fridge door. He had on jeans, which was a shame, but he wore no belt so they hung low on his hips, displaying the chiseled v that screamed this way down.
I was suddenly very hungry.
"Morning, chicken," he said.
I pretended to glower at him, not quite ready to admit I’d liked how comfortable the nickname sounded coming from his lips, wrapped up in his accent, after last night.
"That smells good." I scooted around him in the kitchen and stealthily grabbed my medication. He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of eggs, meeting my eyes as I swallowed it with a dry gulp. He didn’t say anything, but he turned around and caught me around the waist.
"Good morning," I murmured as his lips brushed over mine, sending a spark of electricity through my body.
"I used your toothbrush," he said. "I hope you don’t mind."
I rolled my eyes at him. "I stuck my tongue in your mouth repeatedly last night. I hope you don’t mind."
"I do actually, but only because that was last night." Our lips crushed together, our tongues tangling greedily. Liam guided me back toward the fridge, and I grabbed his face, pulling him hard against me and crushing the carton of eggs he was still holding into my back.
"We should not make out in the kitchen," he said, his eyes full of laughter.
"It’s too dangerous." I took a step forward. "How bad is it?"
"They haven’t started to fry yet, but if we keep them on that ass much longer, they won’t be able to withstand the heat." I groaned as he tugged at my sheet and gently wiped the broken eggs from my backside.
"And now I’m the one naked in my kitchen," I said.
"Let’s hope Jess doesn’t come home," he said, tipping his head toward the locked front door.
"Jess has seen me naked before."
Liam cocked his head and nodded. "Tell me more."
"Perv," I said, swatting his shoulder.
> "I can’t help it. You’re standing here naked. I can not be held accountable for my actions." He took a step toward me, a wicked grin creeping over his face, and stepped onto an egg.
I laughed so hard that I snorted.
"That’s funny, eh?" Liam reached toward the counter and a moment later a puff of flour blasted over my breasts.
"This is war," I said, but I didn’t just grab a handful of flour, I dumped the bag of it over his head. It settled over him like a layer of ash and he wiped his face as he laughed.
"You’re cleaning up breakfast," he said.
"We haven’t even eaten yet," I said.
He pinned my arms to my sides and kissed me slowly. His lips burning into mine before he pushed open my mouth with his tongue. I sucked it with gentle pressure, and he yanked my body against his. I could feel his erection through his jeans, and I slipped my hand down his loose waistline, gripping it firmly.
"Should we go to the bedroom?" he whispered, but I shook my head as I dropped to my knees, barely noticing the egg shells I landed on.
"Jess texted. She’s at Brett’s. We have the place to ourselves." I wrenched his zipper down. He wasn’t wearing any boxers, so he sprang out of the loose confines of his pants at full attention.
"What did you, uh, have in mind?" he asked.
"I thought we should expand our study of communications," I said, pushing him backwards so that his hands gripped the counter behind him.
"That sounds practical. Where should we start?" He looked down at me, and I could see the slight quickness to his breath as he anticipated my move. I let my fingers trace the V cutting across his hips and he moaned.
"I was thinking Oral Communications." I slid one hand over his thickness and brought my mouth to him, stretching my lips over him and taking his length deep into my throat. I held myself steady, one arm wrapped around his hip and the other jerking in rhythm with the plunging of my lips over it. I could feel him struggling to stay still as his breathing became more labored.
"Fuck, Jillian. You are so beautiful." I kept my eyes focused up on him as I blew him. When I saw his eyes shut, I urged him with my free hand to grind against my mouth as he came.
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