The song changes, but we don’t move. It’s like the DJ knows we want to be close. Not that we’d stop what we’re doing. I rest my head on his shoulder, my body keeping rhythm with his. I don’t know how I’ve forgotten what it feels like being with him like this. I used to count the days until our next dance just so I could hold him.
I place small kisses on his neck. He grips me tighter and nuzzles my ear. My hand finds the top button of his shirt. I play with the button until it opens. His hand stills mine, pulling it away from his shirt. I’d pout if he could see my face fully. He sets my hand on his chest, just over his heart and holds it there as his lips touch mine softly.
He pulls away abruptly and looks over his shoulder. A woman comes into view. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy ‘I don’t give a shit’ bun. Her skin-tight red dress is showing so much of her breasts. Liam doesn’t have to imagine what they look like. She licks cherry red lips and she looks at Liam like he’s taking her home tonight.
“Can I have this dance?” she asks brazenly. Can’t she see he’s with someone?
“I’m kind of busy.” He turns back to me. His expression telling me he’s sorry we were interrupted.
“How about an autograph or a picture?”
Liam rolls his eyes. Apparently she doesn’t get it. She pulls her cell phone out of the top of her dress and hands it to me. I look at Liam, my eye brow raised. If he thinks I’m touching that phone he’s nuts, let alone take a picture of them together.
“No pictures, not tonight. I’m on a date.”
“Maybe we can meet up later?”
Before I can say anything, Liam says, “I’m on a forever kind of date so no thanks.”
She looks annoyed and glares at me. Sorry chick, he’s mine. If I have to wear a shirt claiming him, I will. She pulls out a tube of lipstick and spins it until the bright red is showing.
“Sign here.” She runs her finger over the top of her breasts.
Liam shakes his head. “Paper or nothing,” he says turning back to me and pulling me into his arms. I can’t help but throw her a knowing look and smile as I hold onto his shoulders. She stands there, her leg pointed out like she’s just waiting for another opportunity to pounce on my man.
We only sit for a little bit before more people come up and bug him, asking for photos or autographs. Women bring him drinks, but he pushes them aside. He tells me that he never accepts drinks from anyone because that’s how Harrison ended up with Quinn. He met this woman backstage and woke up at her place. Nine months later she dropped off Quinn. I can’t image leaving Noah. He’s my life and for the longest time my only reminder of what Liam and I had.
Liam takes me back to the dance floor. He requests a series of songs from the DJ, most are his. Songs that I’ve memorized and know are about me, our love and the things he wants to do to me.
When the clock strikes twelve his lips claim mine, solid and confident, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. I know I have.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he says against my lips. He doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls me through the cheering crowd. When we’re outside he rushes us to the car. He pushes me up against it, and wraps my legs around him. I feel him fumbling for the door. The leather is cold against my skin as he sets me down in the seat. “Hold that thought.”
Liam climbs into the car and starts it. He places my hand on his hard on, sighing when I squeeze him lightly. He pulls out of the parking lot, gravel spitting out behind the car and drives us home as fast as he can.
My nerves are on fire when we pull into the driveway. I haven’t moved my hand and yet I feel as if this is our first time all over again. Except this time we're in his house, not a hotel. I let myself out of the car and meet him around the front. We walk hand in hand into the dark house. Only the candles in the window light a path through the darkness.
He bends, placing one arm under my legs, the other behind my back. He takes the steps slowly, his eyes penetrating mine. I can see the desire, feel it in the way he holds me. He pushes the bedroom door open, kicking it shut when we’re inside.
He sets me down on his bed and stands in front of me, pushing my hair off my shoulder. He kneels letting his hands trail down my legs, sending a shiver over my skin. He picks up each foot and removes my shoes. His fingers dance along my skin until he reaches the hem of my dress. I stand, forcing him to take a half step back.
My hands slide up his covered chest, fingers working the buttons. I'm so eager to see his chest, one that I’ve missed for so many years. I close my eyes when I get to the last button, my hands pushing aside the fabric. I allow my hands to explore feeling the tight ridges of his abs as my fingers memorize every plane. His hands clamp down on mine when I get to his chest.
“Open your eyes.”
When I do, he lets go. He wanted to see my eyes when I finally discovered what he’s been hiding. On his left pec there's ink and lots of it. It’s dark, solid black. My finger outlines the edges, following the maze.