How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,73
beam that hit the couch.
I bit at my left thumb nail and held a cup of coffee in my right hand.
The coffee was long cold by now.
I wore Liam’s navy-blue button-down shirt because it was the first shirt I found when I got out of bed this morning.
It was more than enough to cover everything on me.
But I knew what was under the shirt.
Nothing.
My body laced with the evidence of what we’d done the night before.
Invisible yes… but I could feel it.
I could still feel it…
His lips moving over my right nipple. My back arching, greedily wanting him to hunger for me. His mouth opening. A growl emerging. His mouth taking my breast. All the while between my legs, his cock slamming forward, pulling back, slamming forward… taking me like he was never going to talk to me again, yet his hands touched me and held me in a way that promised this was just the beginning.
My inner thighs trembled.
Between my legs, I wanted more.
I craved more.
But what have I done?
Liam and I were always a dream.
We were the what could have been that never was, and that was supposed to be okay. Everyone had one of those, right? Someone you could think about for a minute to bring up the nostalgia of being younger.
Now it was too late.
I tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach.
I tried to calm the heat that was moving from my face to between my legs.
I tried to calm my heart…
It had been such a big day for me.
The bakery survived without me hovering over it.
Lucy and Ember put me on a group text at the end of the day, teasing me that the bakery ran smoother without me there.
And then being on that stage with Carla and Faye, I told myself nothing could top that feeling.
But there was one thing that did.
One thing that made me feel better than playing my guitar and singing.
“Liam,” I whispered.
My eyes moved to the bedroom.
Just in time to see Liam emerging from it, wearing his dress pants from yesterday. They were zipped but not closed. He yawned and reached up into the air.
The hardness of his body was only matched by the hardness between his legs.
I stopped biting my thumb nail and put my hand to the counter.
For balance.
There was a part of me that insisted it was all a dream.
But Liam was really here.
Messy bed head that was deadly sexy.
Sleepy eyes that looked right at me like he wanted to fuck me again.
“Morning, Em,” he said in a voice that sounded sleep roughened which made me casually cross my legs as I stood because… well… you know…
My right hand started to shake as I held the coffee mug.
There were always two sides to me…
Right and right.
There was never a wrong side to me.
I didn’t want to do anything wrong to anyone. Ever.
I stared at Liam as he walked.
The muscles were just… they were so casual, like he didn’t realize he looked like someone spent years cutting him carefully from stone.
That stupid V-line that women talked about… I finally understood it.
That line on each side of his lower stomach pointed down and slowly came together as it entered his pants. I knew right where it pointed to.
He had been in my mouth and between my legs all in one night.
Heat rushed to my cheeks again.
In that moment, I felt myself change.
Right and right… was wrong and wrong.
My conscious now consisted of an audience. As though I were some gameshow host asking for the topic of the next question to ask a celebrity. It was noisy.
Liam didn’t help that when he walked up to me, took the coffee cup from my hand, put it on the counter, and then touched my face.
His thumbs moved along my cheeks.
His lips gently touched mine.
Our morning breaths danced.
I had a vision of him turning me around and fucking me right there at the counter.
But my hands took the lead.
The right lead.
I touched his hard, sexy, beautiful, chiseled chest.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“What’s wrong, Em?” Liam asked.
I looked him in the eyes.
“Last night was a mistake.”
“Look me in the eyes and say that, babe,” Liam said.
The words should have hurt him, but they bounced right off him.
“Liam… I am looking you in the eyes…”
“Then look deeper,” he said. “You’re wearing my shirt and my kisses and telling me it was a mistake?”
“I am,” I said.
“Do you really believe that?”
I hesitated on the simple word of yes and I quickly turned around.