Touch

Emily

It’s a one-hour drive from the Pascoal Villa to the marina. We’re not even halfway there, and it feels like I’ve been driving for two long hours.

I grip the wheel as if that’s the only thing keeping me calm right now.

Why is the silence bothering me? It’s not like I usually chit-chat with the guests.

I turn the radio on, hoping it’ll make it less awkward. From the corner of my eye, I notice he’s watching me, and every time he runs his hand through his hair, I can smell him more.

I don’t know if it’s his deodorant, his cologne, or just his natural scent. It intoxicates my hormones.

It’s like my body is a box full of ping-pong balls, and every time Liam moves, the damn box shakes, and the ping-pong balls bounce all over the place.

I breathe a sigh of relief when Ryan breaks the silence.

“How long have you known Alexander and Nicole for?”

“I’ve known Nic since forever. She moved here a couple of years after I did. And I met Alex five years ago, on the day I moved here. He’s my best friend, my rock,” I answer truthfully.

I’m aware that I’m oversharing, but I can’t help it. I love those two.

“My brother and I were wondering if Mr. Torres has already set a date for our meeting,” Liam says after taking a loud, deep breath.

Wait… Brother?

“He’s talking about Ryan,” Ethan answers my question, and I wonder if it’s because I asked it out loud or if he saw my confused expression through the rearview mirror.

“I have been told your meeting is to take place on Tuesday at eight-thirty a.m.,” I say, knowing full well that they have already received an email about it. They have even already confirmed it!

Why is he asking me this?

As we stop at a red light, I take a quick look to my right and see he’s getting his phone out of his pocket.

Stop looking down there, Emily!

He’s holding his phone with his right hand and moves his left hand to his neck, scratching the nape.

Oh. My. God. I gave him a hickey!

I can’t stop looking at it. It’s right there, at the bottom of his neck. Shit. I want my lips there again.

No, no, no.

I slow down as we’re approaching the entrance to the marina and tell them that they can hop off and wait for me by the café as I need to take the car to the parking area.

Ryan and Ethan get out of the car, and I just sit there waiting for Liam to do the same. But he’s not moving.

“I’ll keep you company,” he says, looking straight into my eyes and then down to my lap.

Once the car is parked, I go for the door, and Liam places his hand on my right leg. His touch is soft.

There is barely any pressure, and yet I feel a cold rush spreading from that spot on my leg to all the extremities of my body.

“Don’t touch me.”

I can’t look at him when I say it. My eyes focus on my leg, and I see his hand lift and turn into a fist. Is he angry right now?

I literally jump out of the car, needing to breathe the salty air instead of his enticing scent. I feel sultry when all I want to feel is cold and standoffish.

After closing the door, I look up and see my reflection in the car window. My mirror image is soon joined by his. He’s standing behind me, observing me as he places both hands on the car, caging me.

I’m flustered, but I need to be angry. I need to remind myself of how he treated me outside the club.

I turn to face him, and he takes one step closer to me. That goddamn scent and those stunning blue eyes that are getting darker as he inches closer are killing me.

Defense mechanism: ON

“What do you want, Mr. Harding?” I snap at him, uttering his surname in the hope that it creates some distance between us. I don’t even give him time to answer.

“We had sex. It was okay. And then you fucking hurt me. That was not okay. So, what do you want?” I repeat the question, not sure whether I want an answer.

He takes another step closer, and my hands go straight to his chest, intending to push him. Why is he so well-built? Fucking hell.

Defense mechanism: not found.

“Did you just say that we had okay sex?” he asks, not looking at me but into the distance behind me.

Really? Out of everything I said, that’s the thing that gets his attention?

“Okay sex?” he repeats, towering over me to the point his T-shirt touches my nose. I’m wearing flats today, and now I realize he’s way taller than I first thought.

His right hand caresses my left arm and slowly moves to my waist, getting closer to the band of my bra.

Do I really have to say my panties are soaked, and I’m pressing my thighs together, hoping it helps me fight off whatever this is I’m feeling?

His mouth brushes my ear, and he whispers,

“My tongue licked your pussy so hard you couldn’t even move after you came in my mouth. Your pussy swallowed my cock like you wanted it to be there forever. And that was just… okay?”

You have no idea how badly I want to let him have me right now. I’m melting away, and he moves his other hand under my hair to the back of my neck.

He crushes his lips against mine, kissing me hard and demanding more. His kiss takes me to a place of pure ecstasy.

I’m grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. He groans in approval, and his grip around me tightens. That’s when I feel the unwelcome burn on my shoulder blade, and I push away.

I break the kiss, shake my head, and push my hands hard against his chest. I don’t think my pushing did anything, but he does take one step back.

“You know what? No. Let’s stop this right now before my ass hits the ground!”

The lust in his eyes is gradually being replaced by confusion. I see his neck stiffening, and only then do I realize my hands are still on his chest. He looks down at them and back at me.

“It’s not the first time I’ve told you this, but you’re the one in charge of this whole situation.”

He says this as if he’s just realized what he’s just said.

His chest is going up and down at an uneven pace, and he runs both his hands through his hair, making it look even more disheveled and desirable.

God help me.