He was leaned against the open doorway with his boots crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed over his lean chest. My steps slowed and shortened as my heartless chest clenched almost painfully at the hint of his smile, bright and beautiful even in profile.
I traced my gaze down the rest of him, noting the completely healed cut at his brow, his braided hair, the thin, dark-blue shirt that was cropped just enough to reveal a sliver of skin at his waist.
That piece of heaven called to me, and I answered, driven by pure instinct. Closing the distance between us, I stepped fully behind him.
I whispered, “Ti Bet,” behind his ear.
His surprised inhale was drowned out by the sudden clamor from inside the classroom, but I saw it. I felt it in my bones.
Just as I felt the next one when I smoothed my hand around his waist to his stomach and pulled him lightly, pleasure overtaking me when he easily leaned back against my front. I glanced over his shoulder into the classroom, taking in the dance class that seemed to have just started. The sound of tap shoes mingled with the music from the speakers as they started a warm-up, and I pushed my hand experimentally against Liem’s abdomen and walked backward, seeing if he would follow.
He did.
As soon as we were out of the doorway and had the vacant hallway to ourselves, he gracefully turned on the spot to face me, my hand going along for the ride as it ghosted across his stomach to his hip.
“Dezi,” he said breathily through a smile. “You made it.”
His dark-brown eyes drank in my face, keen as they catalogued every detail.
“You’re stressed,” he concluded after a long moment.
I shrugged lightly and brought my other hand to his braid, tugging it lightly. “I was.”
Liem Lott was a life-giving drug. Seconds in his presence and all the parts of me, down to each of my atoms, finally breathed.
He tilted his head to the side, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “Will you tell me?”
My entire body heated as I thought about my irritation on the drive over here, all of it seeming so inconsequential now.
Liem’s frown retreated as his lips parted. “Oh,” he breathed, his gaze roaming my face again. He brought his hand up to my cheek bone, and with a featherlight touch, he traced a line over my warm cheek. “That color will be lovely for class.”
My mind sprinted back to that kiss under the willow tree, to the streak of flour across his cheek, but I yanked it back.
“Ti Bet,” I warned, lightly encircling his wrist with my hand. “If you touch me like that again, the class is going to have something else to draw. Something less lovely—and possibly illegal.”
Liem’s pierced eyebrow rose as his gaze darted to the scant space between us, and I exhaled sharply, taking a step back.
“Jesus, Liem. Don’t even look at me.”
He smiled. “I missed you very much.” He held out his hand between us, taking mercy on me. “Come on. I’ll show you to the room before we get started.”
I took his hand, and he pulled me down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder at me as we went. “I like what you’re wearing.”
He probably hadn’t expected this outfit when he’d instructed me to wear something I was comfortable in for today’s class.
His shirt—the one I’d stolen from his room when I was at the cottage early this morning to walk over to the coffee shop with Bree—and a pair of jeans.
I tried to muster a smirk, but he stopped just before the doorway and turned to me again, pure mischief on his face.
“Dezi?” he inquired innocently.
I raised my eyebrows at him warily.
He smoothed his thumb across my knuckles. “You and I both know it wouldn’t be less lovely.”
My jaw clenched and my body rioted.
Satan, take me again.
