were strained as they caressed my skin. “You and I both know Ryan isn’t the one you want to fuck. You either dance with me or I’ll deck Ryan and carry your ass off this dance floor.”
I turned toward him, our lips only centimeters apart. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Test me, sweetheart.”
I had no idea what his damn problem was. Was he the official cock block of this wedding or was he just going out of his way to cock block me? Either way, there was no way I was causing a scene at Kennedy’s wedding, and with the way Liam was looking at me, I didn’t doubt that he would hold true to his word.
“Ryan, I’m going to dance with your boy here, but don’t go too far.”
Ryan softly laughed as I let my hands fall from him, and I hated how entertaining this whole interaction was for him. “Good luck.”
Once Ryan had his back turned, I stormed past Liam, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop before I could get too far. He pulled me toward him, my chest slamming into his, before he wrapped his arms around my waist and started to move.
I didn’t so much as sway my hips.
“What, you can dance with him but you’re too good to dance with me?” He was staring down at me, and I was doing everything in my power to avoid his eyes.
“Ryan wasn’t an asshole to me. So, yeah.”
“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” He sounded sincere, but I didn’t care.
“It just comes naturally.”
He smiled, that damn smile that I loved and hated, and for the first time since I knew Liam, I wanted to slap that look right off his face.
“Just dance with me, B.”
I used to like when he called me that, but tonight it just pissed me off. “Don’t call me that. What? Is it too much effort to use my full name?”
His smile got wider and he pushed his thigh against mine to force me to move on the dance floor. “It doesn’t stand for Brooke.”
Wait, what? “Then what does it stand for?”
“It’s not important.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
He wasn’t listening to me though. He was lifting my arms and laying them against his chest. I watched as his fingers traced their way back down my skin, and I couldn’t remember for a second why I was mad at him when his fingers skimmed over the delicate area just inside my elbow.
My fingers clenched, gripping his shirt, just as one of his hands skated around my body and pressed against the small of my back, forcing my hips against his.
His body began to move, and I had no choice but to move with him or I would have been left a hot mess in the middle of the dance floor. Not that I already wasn’t.
It was another reason that Liam was a horrible idea. He made me flustered and irritated, and I didn’t like being either of those things.
“Look at us.” Liam was looking down at our bodies that were pressed so tight they were practically connected. “We’re dancing.”
“I’m technically being forced.” I scoffed at how easily he could go from being a complete asshole to this. Whatever the hell this was.
“You don’t look like you’re being forced.” He looked around the room. “Everyone is looking over here at us, and they all see how pliable you look in my hands. They all see how easy it was to convince your body to move with mine.”
“I swear to God, Liam. You could make an art out of being an asshole.”
“Thank you.” His grin widened, and I watched his lips like I was somehow glued to their movement.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“You know I’m right.” He turned us. His body moving mine with no difficulty.
“And what did they see when they watched me and Ryan dance?” I felt his body stiffen against mine as the words left my mouth. I probably should have regretted saying it, but I didn’t. Getting a rise out of him made me feel powerful when I typically felt anything but around him.
“They saw what I did. How uncomfortable you were in his arms.”
“I don’t know about that.” I picked at a small speck of lint off his shoulder. “I actually felt pretty comfortable there, relaxed. Ryan’s funny. I bet he’d be fun in bed.”
“Is that what you need?” He growled the words low for only me to hear. “To be fucked by someone at this wedding.”
This is what I