I hold up two finger guns and click my tongue like a fucking dumbass. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
“You sure you’re ok?”
Nope.
“Yep.”
This clearing looks like a good place to dig a Ruby-sized hole. I wonder if Liam has a shovel I could borrow.
After the incident in the grove, I settle for a bowl of cereal and hide away in the music room again, since witness protection isn’t a viable option without extensive plastic surgery.
I’m playing a melody I’ve been perfecting for the last hour when he approaches. His presence is intoxicating—more potent than a shot of top-shelf tequila.
I flip to a new page. “Hot date?”
I take in his signature green Henley and jeans. He’s freshly showered with his fiery hair impeccably styled and his beard neatly trimmed. He’s sprayed on some of my favorite cologne, and I want to fucking drown in it.
“Why? You jealous?”
I scoff. “Nope.”
“Good. There’s nothing for you to be jealous of.”
Irritation creeping in, I turn to face him completely, leaning back against the piano to get a better view. At the risk of sounding possessive, I ask, “Are you fucking someone else?”
“I’m not even fuckingyou.” He lifts a single brow.
“Semantics. I had your cock down my throat, Liam. I deserve to know if you’re fucking around with anyone else.”
“Careful, baby. Keep talking like that and I’ll fuck the jealousy right out of you.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me with hunger in his eyes. The position gives me a mouthwatering view of his tattooed forearms, every defined ridge of his muscles on full display. He’s so fucking sexy it should be criminal.
His lips tip up the slightest bit. “There’s no one else.”
“Since you brought it up, whyaren’tyou fucking me?” I run my fingers through my hair and lift my chin expectantly.
“That’s a line I don’t think you’re ready to cross,” he responds gruffly.
I lean forward and link a finger through his beltloop. Adding a seductive tone to my voice, I ask, “What if I want you to?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not a good idea.”
A pit forms in my stomach, but I shove it back down. “Do you regret it? Do you regret letting me touch you?”
“No. And I don’t know what’s worse… fucking around with my brother’s ex, or that I want to do it again.”
“You do?”
He takes my palm and flattens it over the bulge in his jeans. “That and so much more, but we can’t.”
I stand from the bench and trail my finger down the hard planes of his chest. His nostrils flare. I can see every single muscle in his jaw clenching.
“What do you want, Liam? Do you want me to beg?” I whisper, my breath ghosting over his cheek.
He releases a guttural sound and roughly fists my hair, angling my face upward. “Do you know how hard it is to see you every goddamn day and not fucking touch you? Not bend you over every surface in this house and fuck you until you can’t stand? I have an incredible amount of restraint, but you’re testing its limits.” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, each one driving my need ever higher.
