By the time I untangle from my thoughts, Stas has climbed onto his lap. My blood runs hot. I take in the way their bodies are fitted together, her hands on his chest, and his palms coasting from her waist down to tighten around her thighs.
Beau’s voice is drenched in sex when he says, “You know, sometimes friends kiss.”
Her lashes flutter as her painted fingernails curl into the front of his t-shirt.
“Do they?” Her voice is a whisper.
I watch Beau’s fingers creep up to the hem of her shirt, sneaking under it to wrap around the sexy curve of her hips. He inches his mouth closer to hers. “So soft.”
And then he kisses her.
I clench my hands over my tensed thighs. I’m rock hard. Fixated on what’s unfolding before me. Wrapped around their fingers as they melt into lust with panted breaths and hungry touches. It’s sexual chemistry igniting right in front of me, pure and addicting.
There’s a flash of a wicked smile from Beau before he slides his tongue along her full bottom lip. His next kisses are slower. Deeper. Absolutelyfilthy.
Stasi sinks into him. And when her hands drift up to cradle his face?
She touches him with a tenderness I could never give anyone. It’s one of the reasons I never replied to him. Why I’ve left her in charge of whatever is developing between us.
Beau lets out a little growl as he pulls away, almost like he can’t handle the distance he’s creating between them. He gives her lip one more nip, reminding me more of the heated way we used to fuck. When I’d drag him into a hotel room to rip off his clothes and thrust deep into his ass.
“Aren’t you friends with Liam, too?” Beau asks.
Stas and I lock gazes. Her blown pupils and flushed cheeks have me aching to palm my cock.
Yeah, I want to kiss her. I want to do a lot of things with her.
Seeing her perched on Beau’s lap wearing his hat shouldn’t do things to me, but I’ve always enjoyed watching. The anticipation of claiming my partnersafterthey think they’ve had enough is almost more fun than the act itself.
Almost.
If Stasi had picked anyone else to mess around with tonight, I would have been out that door already. Would have told myself to move the fuck on. I’m not her keeper.
Stasi bats those thick lashes at me, waiting for an answer. I hate that hesitation. Does she honestly believe I don’t want her? Or is she concerned about my nature? It’s reason enough to hold back. If I were ever capable of love, it was beaten out of me by the man who helped bring me into this world.
So this can’t bemychoice. I don’t want to take control like I normally do. Not when my brain is firing off warnings to push her away. To protect her.
Stasi draws in a deep breath, and then she cautiously moves onto my lap like I’m some deadly creature that could snap at any sudden movement.
I keep my hands off her for as long as it takes her to rest fully on my thighs.
And then my pathetic self-control snaps.
I wrap my hands around her warm thighs, squeezing them and pulling her body closer. Her hands jerk to my shoulders, and I give her a moment to settle into this.
Usually, I don’t give my partners a chance to touch me. I don’t enjoy it. But as she begins tracing the ink designs on my neck almost in reverie, I find I don’t mind it. Could be just because it’s her. Could be my therapy finally fucking paying off.
Has she been holding back, too? Has she craved me just as much as I crave her?
I slide my fingers into her tiny back pockets and drag her against my hard, jean-clad length. The friction is enough to draw a little gasp from her parted lips.
What other noises could I get her to make? Would she beg? Cry? Scream?
Too fucking far, Liam. Calm down.
Stas blinks those big brown eyes at me and whispers, “Are we friends, Liam?”
No.Fuckthat. I don’t want to be friends with her. I want to fuckingownher.
