Scoring Wilder

His expression darkened and his gaze shifted from my eyes down to my lips. We were going to keep throwing digs at one another because that's all that we could do. We weren't allowed to be together. Hell, we shouldn't have even been dancing, but we were both helpless to the moment.

I should have pulled away, he should have left me alone, but then something happened that served as the final catalyst for our illicit romance.

The lights cut out.

It was already dim before, but then the room turned pitch black. Someone must have hit the light switch.

Who knew how long it would last, but Liam didn't wait to find out. He twisted me around, pulling me to his chest, and kissed me so hard that I let out a little yelp. I recovered quickly, opening up for him, tilting my head and letting him slide his tongue over mine. It sent lust swirling through my body. I picked my leg up, twisting it around his hip. One of his hands left my waist and he helped pin my long leg around him. He groaned into my mouth and I completely lost myself in him.

"Leave them off!" someone yelled, and I smiled against his mouth. It was like the world had given us a momentary break from the rules. A hall pass. We were in the dark, in the middle of a crowded dance floor, but no one could see us. One hand drifted higher up my skirt while his other hand pulled me against him so I could feel him against my spanks.

"God," I groaned, dragging our hips together. Would the lights stay out long enough for him to take me right here?

"You're so fucking sexy, Kinsley," he moaned into my ear. "Do you know what I want to do to you? What I imagine doing to you every time I see you?"

His words were fueling the fire between us. I responded by skimming my hands under his shirt, feeling his impossibly toned abs. His skin was hot and smooth, and his muscles were coiled, as if he were restraining himself from what he actually wanted to do to me.

We were just on the edge of falling… and then the lights flicked on and we flew apart.





Chapter Twelve


Our breathing was erratic and heavy as we tried to piece together the last few minutes. We were standing a foot away from each other and the lights kept flickering on and off as someone continued to play with them.

I pressed my palm to my stomach, feeling my diaphragm spasm in response to our secret kiss.

Everything in life was a hazy mess. In the past few days I’d had ten million decisions fall across my lap: Fight Tara or deal with her crap? Do the interview with Brian King or keep my life as private as possible?

But that cloud of uncertainty didn’t reach Liam.

He was the northern star. I had no choice but to become enveloped in his brightness and let it coax me toward him. Wanting him was an unconscious impulse, like taking my next breath.

And now, without a doubt, I knew he wanted me, too.

"You're not in costume," I murmured, glancing over his faded jeans and black shirt that fit him so well I swore they'd been designed with his proportions in mind.

The edge of his mouth curved up. "I'm not a costume type of guy."

Everyone around us was still dancing and the girl behind me kept accidentally knocking into me. I was about to turn around and ask her to get a hold of her flailing elbows, but then I’d have to look away from him. I wasn’t ready for that yet.

"That's not fair," I lamented.

"I don't think I mind costumes so much when you're wearing them," he smirked, letting his gaze fall to my bare stomach. I don't think I minded them either, especially since his hand had been on that bare skin only moments earlier.

"C'mon," he motioned. "I'll go put one on." He tilted his head toward the hallway and I knew we were heading back to his room. I scanned behind me, but didn't see anyone I knew. Becca and Penn were dancing off to the side of the room. His hands were on her hips and her head was tilting up to him. He bent down to say something in her ear and she smiled into his neck.

Half of me wanted to interrupt them and mention Becca's wax or cash in my "one free pantsing" that she'd promised me, but I couldn't do that to her. Best to wait until she was more sober, that way she’d remember it. Hah.

"Coming?" Liam asked, and I realized I'd stopped following him.

He was standing confidently in the hallway, cloaked in darkness. His facial hair was more grown out than usual, like he'd forgotten to shave earlier that morning. But the thing that got me the most, that I couldn't wrap my head around, was his strong hand outstretched and beckoning for me to catch up and grab hold. He was putting himself on the line.

Someone could see us sneaking away from the party, but I told myself the chances were slim. Everyone was too busy concealing their own secrets to worry about discovering ours.

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