I flush at his comment and it’s obvious Becca doesn’t ́appreciate it either.
He’s leaning back against the bar, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to make my pulse race. The dim lighting casts sharp shadows across his chest, highlighting every line, every ridge. And the way he smirks? Like he already knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Damn him.
“You ready for this, love?” His voice is low, teasing. Sinful.
I swallow, ignoring the heat curling low in my stomach. “It’s just a game.”
Liam’s smirk deepens. “Then come closer.”
I step between his legs, breath hitching as his hands settle on my waist. His touch is steady, but his grip is firm. Like he’s daring me to run.
Someone presses a lime wedge into my hand. I barely register the salt being sprinkled along the cut of his collarbone, too focused on the way Liam is watching me–like I’m the only thing in the room.
“Go on,” he murmurs.
I hesitate, Just for a second.
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Then I lower my head.
My lips graze his skin as I lick the salt away.
“Damn,” someone mutters.
The taste is sharp, but not nearly as sharp as the way Liam tenses beneath me. His grip on my waist tightens, just slightly. Enough to make me hyperaware of every single point of contact between us.
The room disappears.
It’s just us now.
I grab the shot glass from his hand, tilt it back, and let the tequila burn its way down. Before I can even recover, Liam’s fingers are under my chin, tilting my face up toward his.
“The lime,” he reminds me, voice rough.
I can barely breathe as I lift the wedge to his lips.
He bites down, his eyes never leaving mine.
Heat pools deep in my stomach.
“Your turn,” he says, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against my waist.
I should step back. I should laugh it off. But I don’t.
I let him pull me closer.
Liam takes the shot glass from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine–a touch so small, so insignificant, but it sends a
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shiver up my spine all the same.
He leans in, so close that his breath fans across my lips.
“Where do you want it, love?” His voice is low, teasing–thick with something that makes my knees weak.
I don’t answer. I can’t.
His smirk deepens, like he already knows.
Then, before I can even process it, his fingers trail up my arm. Over my shoulder. Down the curve of my collarbone.
He lingers just above my chest, fingers slow.‘ Deliberate.
Finally, he settles on the dip between my ribs.
My breath catches.
“Here?” he asks, his gaze locked onto mine, daring me to stop him.
I don’t.
Someone hands him the salt shaker, and he sprinkles a thin line just below my ribs, his fingers grazing my skin.
A shiver rolls through me.
Then comes the tequila–cool at first, before the heat spreads through me.
“Lime?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
Liam grins, wicked. “My choice, remember?”
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Before I can even react, he cups my face. Tilts my chin up.
And then–just barely—his lips brush against mine.
A whisper of contact. A ghost of a kiss.
My pulse skyrockets.
And then, just as I’m about to fall apart-
Liam’s mouth is on my skin.
His tongue flicks over the salt, slow and deliberate, and I swear my heart stops. He doesn’t rush. He takes his time. Lets it linger.
Then he takes the shot, tilting his head back effortlessly. His throat moves, his jaw tenses–and it’s everything.
And just when I finally think I can breathe again-
Liam leans in.
His lips barely ghost over mine as he steals the lime wedge from my fingers.
He bites down, eyes dark. Unreadable,
The room erupts. Cheers. Whistles. Someone yells “Get a room!”
It’s Lacey, Obviously.
But with the way my body reacts, the heat pooling in my lower belly, I start to see the telltale signs of absolute fuckery.
I am so screwed.
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The air between us is charged.
Liam doesn’t move away. Neither do I.
The lime wedge is still between his teeth, his lips curved into that infuriating, knowing smirk. Like he’s already won.
I try to pretend that this didn’t just send heat rolling through my veins.
But his thumb is still tracing slow, lazy circles on my waist. His breath is still warm against my lips.
I’m not sure I can move even if I want to.
“Still think it’s just a game, love?” Liam murmurs, voice low, teasing, Sinful.
I
force myself to roll my eyes, despite the way my pulse is
hammering. “You’re ridiculous.”
His smirk deepens, eyes glinting. “I think you’re more ridiculous. Seeing as you’re still standing here.”
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