“I’ve heard about this look that you give women.”
“I didn’t peg you for one who bought those trashy magazines.”
“Jenna does and she told me. She wants to go to one of your concerts, she didn’t know who you were until you came to town. I mean she knew, just not the connection.
“Remind me to send her tickets and a backstage pass.”
“I don’t think so,” I reply. I don’t think I want any woman to ever experience that look from Liam again.
“Josephine Preston, are you jealous?”
I pick up my glass and down some liquid courage. “She thinks you’re hot. I know she’s my friend, but I also know she hasn’t dated in three years and if you did that she’d turn to a pile of goo and fall down at your feet. I’d hate to think…”
“I only have eyes for one woman, period.” Liam sets down his knife and fork, resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands together. “When I saw you, I knew I had made a mistake. I should have never left or at least come back for you. My life is better with you in it, Josie. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“I’m getting married,” I choke out. Nick and I talked about setting a date when I get back and I’ve already let Liam touch me and kiss me. My god, what does that make me?
“Where’s your ring?”
I look down at my bare left finger. Of all the times Nick has asked, he’s never shown me a ring. Maybe he thinks I don’t want one, although I’m not sure where he’d get that idea from because I do want one. I want to wear what he’s picked out to symbolize his love for me.
“He’s an idiot.” Liam throws his napkin down on the table. “If you were mine, that
finger would not be bare, especially if you were visiting your ex-boyfriend.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here. I mean he knows I’m in Los Angeles, but he doesn’t know I’m here with you.”
Liam pushes his chair out and stands. He picks up a remote and music starts. He walks the three steps to me and holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”
“I shouldn’t,” I whisper, unable to look at him.
His fingers trail my jaw. He gently raises my face; my eyes find his. “You want to, Jojo, don’t deny it. I won't tell.”
I push my chair back and stand, taking his offered hand. He walks us to the middle of the living room, hitting a switch on the wall to dim the lights. We stand in the glow from the city lights.
His hands press gently on my waist, his fingers spread out to feel more of me. I keep my hands on his shoulders, a safe distance from his hair, while our bodies sway to the soulful melody coming from his stereo. He pulls me closer, his hands moving up my back. One hand comes forward, moving strands of hair away from my face.
Every inch of my body is on fire. The look in his eyes tells me he wants me, I just have to make the first move. His hand roams down my back, cupping my ass, pushing me closer into him. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be with him; I don’t think I ever will. We taught each other everything. We explored each other’s bodies, learning as we became lovers. I knew how to satisfy him, knew every secret spot to make him shiver and squirm.
His other hand trails up my arm, picking up my hand and placing it on the nape of his neck. My fingers push into his hair and he groans. His eyes fluttering closed. He’s grown it out since I first saw him in Beaumont. I like it this way best.
His hand grips my hip, pulling me even closer, grinding into me. I bite my lip to keep my mouth from falling open. Anticipation builds. The desire is there and he knows it. He’s studying me, marking me as his prey. His eyes are hooded, smoky. He licks his lips, watching me for some hint that he can take the next step.
I can’t give it to him.
I won’t.
“Who are we listening to?” I ask hoping to break up the tension in the air. The singer's voice is hoarse and sexy. I could listen to it for hours. Liam bends me back a bit, the swell of my chest even with his mouth. He kisses each breast before kissing the valley of my cleavage.
“Me,” he says against my skin.
“Who are you singing about?”
He carefully pulls me forward. My hands instantly weave back into his hair. He looks at my mouth then my eyes.
“You.”
“Me?”