“I”m fine!” she snapped, rubbing at her throat. “God, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry. I've been waiting out here forever for you to turn up,” he said.
“You've been stalking me!?”
“That makes it sound weird. Waiting sounds better.”
“Okay. Stop. Start from the beginning. What's going on?” Katya asked, finally standing upright to face him.
It had only been two days since she'd seen him, and Katya had only known Liam for about a grand total of twelve hours, but still. His image would be burned into her brain for the rest of her life. Also, and it sounded cliché, running into him sort of felt like running into an old friend. Someone comfortable and familiar.
Ummm, there was nothing familiar about the things he did to your naked body.
He smiled when she started blushing, and she hated herself a little.
“I never got your number,” he said. “I think I was still pretty drunk when you left. I was thinking we could go get some tacos, I know a great place downtown.”
Katya opened her mouth, automatically ready to say yes, but then she froze. She wasn't sure why. She felt so comfortable with Liam, yes could be the only answer to anything he asked. He was also stupid hot – those chocolate eyes wandering knowingly over her body, his big, goofy smile distracting from the fact that he was a very large, very built, very sexy man.
But she'd also just had a very long conversation with herself about not being with certain men, no matter how good looking they were, or how good they were in bed. Or how their hands had touched parts of her body she still couldn't think about without turning bright red.
FOCUS.
“Liam,” she sighed.
“Oh no. That tone isn't good,” he said, but his voice was teasing.
“Look. You're super … amazing. Hot and funny and all that stuff that makes girls fall at your feet. I pretty much did,” she told him. “But that night, that wasn't me. I mean, you were so good looking, and I wanted to be the kind of woman you're attracted to. I wanted to be dangerous and sexy and fun, and I'm just not. I'm not that woman. I'm a schoolmarm, who wears beige and cashmere and I'm just … boring. I'm boring, Liam. I'm really, really boring.”
She was rushing by the end of her speech, and wasn't entirely sure what all was pouring out of her mouth. It was pure word vomit, straight from the ether to the tip of her tongue, but at least it was out. She'd said it. Liam knew the truth. She let out a deep breath and stared up at him.
“You are so ridiculous. You know that, right?” he laughed. Katya blinked her eyes.
“Did you hear anything I said?” she asked.
“Of course I did. It was all bullshit. Boring? Lady, you walked into a sex club, slammed back a double tequila, then fucked my brains out. Does that sound boring to you? You were totally all those things – fun, sexy, and yeah, even a little dangerous. You just gotta chill out and stop spending so much time in that brain of yours,” Liam said, tapping a finger against her temple. She frowned at him.
“But I was just pretending,” she insisted.
“Oh, okay. So you just pretended to get fucked in the ass.”
Forget blushing. A five-alarm fire broke out across her face, causing Liam to laugh again.
“We are in public!” she hissed at him, gesturing to all the people walking around them.
“So? Who gives a shit? Do you plan on fucking any of them?” he asked.
“What!? Of course not! No! But … they … you can't ...” she started sputtering.
“Then who cares what they think? You're talking to me – I'm the only thing you should be worrying about right now,” he said.
“No! You can't just say and do things like that, Liam! It's totally inappropriate,” she said.
“You know what else is inappropriate? You wearing this sweater,” he replied, then he crowded in close to her. She instinctively backed away, moving until he'd forced her against a wall. She held her breath when he reached out and plucked at the top button on her cardigan.
“There is nothing inappropriate about this sweater – it's J. Crew,” she told him.
“I think it's grossly inappropriate to hide a body as amazing as yours. You've got some serious self-esteem issues, angel cake,” he sighed, finally undoing the offending button. She slapped his hand away.
“I do not, I just don't want to dress like a slut. I like these clothes,” she said.
“Baby, no one likes to dress like that.”
“Stop arguing with me.”
“I'm not arguing, I'm just stating facts.”
“You're stating opinion – there's a big difference between the two.”
“Careful, you're getting feisty. In danger of becoming – gasp! – not boring,” he teased her. It was impossible to keep a straight face, she had to laugh.
“God, you're horrible,” she chuckled, letting her head drop forward till her forehead hit his chest.
“The worst. Come have tacos with me and I'll make up for it,” he whispered. She took a deep breath.
“Like go out to dinner?” she checked, then frowned when she felt him shrug.
“Lunch time is better for me. It'll be great, we can bring some home and eat them on my roof,” he told her.
Hmmm. Didn't really sound like a date. Sounded like two buddies meeting up to eat tacos and hang out. Katya figured she could handle hanging out with a friend. It wasn't like she had to end the night with crazy sex. Maybe new-Katya and old-Katya could sort of meld together.
“Okay. Okay, I think I can do tacos. But not today, I have to go to work. Tomorrow?” she asked, finally lifting her head.
“Sounds good. I'll grab you from you work, noon. Oh! And phone number, please. As fun as hanging out outside this building is, texting would be easier,” he said, taking out his phone. She hesitated for only a moment, then gave him her number.
“Sorry I'm so difficult,” she said while he tapped away at his screen. He frowned and put his phone away.
“What is it with that? You're always apologizing for something, or thinking you're not cool enough, or good enough. Who made you feel that way?” he asked. She stared at him for a second.
“No one, I just … I'm realistic. Objective about myself. Let's not get into it now, I have to go to work and you -”
She gasped when he pressed himself to her front. While her lips were still parted, he dove in, kissing her hard. Her head hit the wall behind her, causing her braid to press painfully against her skull, but she didn't care. She couldn't even think straight. She'd already forgotten how kissing him felt – like locking lips with a runaway freight train.