Page 81 of Something Forever
He glances up at me, a satisfied grin across his face. “Good morning,” he whispers. He lifts off me to grab the towel off the ground and wipe me off, as gentle as he was last night.
I laugh. “Morning.”
“I wish every morning started this way. I’d be in much better spirits.”
“Who knew orgasms would be the best way to tame your grumpy attitude?” I smirk at him, sitting up. Liam wraps his hand around the back of my neck, bringing his lips down to mine.
“You look so pretty covered in my cum,” he whispers, causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh. “I want to see you tied up and covered in it.”
His words send another wave of desire through me, so I push him lightly and slide out of bed to get dressed. If I keep listening to him, we’ll never leave this bed. Not that I’m entirely opposed to that.
“Sorry,” his gravelly voice says from behind me. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Will you please tell me if I am?”
I whip my head back to him, his gaze steady but unsure.
Vulnerable.
Crossing back to him, I wrap my arms around his neck, stepping in between his thighs as he looks up at me.
“I love your dirty mouth. You haven’t made me uncomfortable at all,” I tell him, swiping my hand across his hair and tucking it behind his ear.
“Okay,” he says, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I feel safe with you.”
No strings attached. No strings attached.
Liam takes my hand and presses a soft kiss at the center of my palm, his molten eyes staring up at me, the flecks of gold somehow brighter in the morning light.
“Come on,” he says, tugging on my hand. “I’ll make you breakfast.”
I’m a goner.
30
WHITNEY
Liam and I spend the rest of the weekend entertaining Andy. He’s got major tourist energy, and even though he’s been to New York a few times, he’s never been to the Statue of Liberty, so on Saturday we get dumplings in Chinatown before catching the ferry. After that, we get pizza and see a Broadway show.
Liam can’t keep his hands off me, and I am not complaining.
I don’t know if it’s because we’re in front of his dad and he wants to keep up the pretense, or if it’s from our agreement last night, but his hands keep finding mine as we walk. On the ferry, he wrapped his arms around me and held me against his chest, resting his head over mine. While we watched the show, he held my hand for the entire performance.
I can’t get enough.
I’ve also learned that Andy is a great listener. He spends all weekend asking me about myself. Even when I try to skirt a question or toss the attention onto Liam, Andy is relentless, genuinely interested in All Rhodes, my family, my friends, where I went to college, and most importantly, which couple I’m rooting for on Love Island. Liam interjects occasionally with follow-up questions.
Outside of the theater on Saturday night, Liam tugged on my arm and pulled me close to him.
“I’ve learned so much about you today. I didn’t realize that I don’t ask you many questions about yourself.”
I shrugged, brushing him off, but he brought his hand up to my cheek, cupping it.
“I’ll be better about that. I want to know everything about you.”
Needless to say, between Liam’s soft touches and thoughtful words, the phrase no strings attached has been ringing in my head all weekend like a taunt.
“What a day,” Andy says on Sunday night when we get back to the apartment. “I’m exhausted.”