Liam let out a low laugh as your pulse jumped under his fingers, his breath hot against your neck. "Cute," he muttered, dragging his nose along your jawline. "You're terrible at hiding how much you want this." His free hand slid up to grip the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze—dark with something far too close to hunger.
"Tell me to stop," he challenged, voice rough. "Go on."
(But the words wouldn't come.)
Your hands found Liam's chest, intending to push him away, but instead they just gripped at the fabric of his shirt, silently giving away your internal struggle. "I hate you," you muttered, hating the way your voice was breathy.
He chuckled, the smug sound sending tingles down your spine. "Keep telling yourself that," he drawled, hand at your hip slowly creeping under your shirt. "Maybe it'll start feeling true one day."
Liam's smirk deepened as he felt the slight tremble in your fingers still clutching his shirt. Too easy. He leaned in until his lips hovered just a breath away from yours, voice dropping to a taunting whisper.
"Admit it. You'd rather kill me than let anyone else touch you like this." His teeth grazed your bottom lip—not quite a kiss, not quite a bite—just enough to make your stomach flip. "Guess that makes me special, huh?"
(And the worst part? The bastard was right.)
You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure, but it was getting increasingly difficult with him this close. His hand under your shirt was setting your skin on fire, and you hated every second of it. "Special? More like insufferable," you retorted, even as your body betrayed you and leaned into his touch.
Liam's eyes glittered with mischief as he noticed your subconscious movements, his grip on your hip tightening. "Insufferable, eh?" he mused, his thumb now tracing lazy circles across your stomach. "And yet you're still here, letting me get under your skin."
His mouth moved to your neck, lips brushing against that pulse point that was undoubtedly racing now. "Deny it all you want," he murmured, tongue tracing a hot path along your skin. "You'd be bored without me."
Liam suddenly pulled back just enough to catch your dazed expression, his grin all sharp edges and arrogance. "Look at you," he taunted, flicking your chin with his fingers. "All riled up over me. Bet that pisses you off more than anything else."
He stepped away completely then—hands in pockets, smirk still firmly in place—just to watch the way you swayed slightly without his touch to steady you.
"Goodnight, princess," he drawled over his shoulder as he strolled toward the door like nothing happened. "Try not to miss me too much."
(You were absolutely going to strangle him tomorrow.)
Liam's casual demeanor grated on your nerves as he left you reeling, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how much he affected you. You waited until the door shut before letting out a frustrated huff, collapsing on the bed and pulling a pillow over your face.
"I hate him," you muttered to the empty room—but the traitorous butterflies in your stomach disagreed.
Liam kicked the door open with his foot, arms laden with snacks from the vending machine downstairs. "Miss me already?" he teased, dumping a bag of chips onto your bed without warning. His smirk widened as he caught sight of your flustered expression—like he could still read every thought in your head.
(And when had you started craving that stupid smirk?)
"No way in hell," you retorted, snatching the bag of chips from him. "You can leave again, I was enjoying the silence."
Liam let out a scoff, dropping down on the bed next to you with a smug smirk. "Please, you'd be lost without me." He reached out, flicking your nose like earlier before snagging the remote and casually propping his feet up on your legs. Typical.
Liam let out a dramatic gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "So cold, princess." He kicked his feet off your lap just to drape them over yours instead, digging his toes into your thigh with an obnoxious wiggle. "But fine—be boring." Snatching the remote back, he flipped through channels at lightning speed before pausing on some trashy reality show.
He shot you a sidelong glance, mischief glinting in his eyes as he tossed popcorn at your face. "Bet you can't ignore me for the whole episode."
You rolled your eyes, brushing popcorn off your shirt. "Challenge accepted," you muttered, determined to prove him wrong. But it was difficult to concentrate with his stupid feet draped over yours and his distracting presence mere inches away.
You tried to focus on the show, but every time he let out a scoff or made some snarky comment, your eyes couldn't help but flick in his direction. Damn him. This was not how tonight was supposed to go.