I shudder with the sensation and do my best to ignore the intense heat that follows. There’s an intensity to Liam I’m not prepared to handle.
He should’ve come with a warning label.
When Forest suggested we pretend to be dating, what I had in mind was nothing like this. I thought about holding hands, not getting busy on a dance floor with a man I barely know.
Maybe a chaste kiss on the lips?
That’s it.
If I thought he was hot when I first saw him, that’s nothing compared to Liam making a scene. The man is a natural performer, flirtatious without making promises, gathering both men and women around him to dance.
There will be plenty of eyewitnesses for my uncle to question about how serious this thing is between me and Liam.
As for Liam, in addition to his creative pelvic thrusting, he’s got the line dancing thing down pat. We’re on our fifth or seventh version of the night. I swear he makes it up on the go, and everyone is having a total blast: falling in line, learning the moves, and taking it over from there.
As for that kiss?
His mouth has been all over me. From the tip of my shoulder to my more than ample cleavage, he’s had either his lips, or his nose, buried there. All along my neck, and behind my ear, he’s pressed his warm lips to my skin.
He flutters butterfly kisses over my eyes, presses his lips to my forehead, and kisses the inside of my wrist and the backs of my hands as if intimately acquainted with my body.
Like a lover would be.
And damn if there aren’t moments when I close my eyes and dream what if?
What if this wasn’t pretend?
What if I allow things to go that far?
What if I fall for this man?
Without fail, each time those thoughts enter my head, Liam tenses. That’s the only way to describe it. One moment, his body flows through his dance moves. The next, he’s on high alert.
“Did you make up the line dance from the flash mob at the Belvedere?”
“I did not.” Liam’s hands shift from my waist down to cup my ass. He brings me in tight, guiding my hips to follow the movement of his. While he does that, he nuzzles my neck and nibbles on my ear.
It’s hot. We’re talking five-alarm fire, smoking hot.
“Could’ve fooled me.” My arms dangle by my sides, swaying to the music, but I’m not really engaged.
Too nervous to let go, my body jerks instead of flows. I’m not a great dancer. I get along just fine, except when I’m in Liam’s arms.
He drags his finger down my arm, swirling it around and past my elbow, until he reaches my wrist. As he lifts my arm, he whispers in that husky voice of his.
“Pretend you’re having a good time, princess. Put your hands on me.” He places my hand on his shoulder, then does the same thing to my other hand. Only this time, he pauses to kiss the inside of my wrist. “We’re being watched.”
I step on his toe, shocked by what he says.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can handle a few crushed toes.”
Right, but only because he wears steel-tipped boots.
“Who’s watching us?” With great effort, I refrain from looking around. I don’t want the watchers to know I’m on to them. Not that I am. I’m completely oblivious to everything around me.
“Not sure.”
“Has my security team found us?”
“It’s possible. Let’s see what they do when I kiss you.” He leans down to kiss me.
The moment our lips connect, a burst of heat expands outward, tingling as it goes. He places my hand on his chest and kisses his way to my ear. While nibbling on my earlobe, making my toes curl, he whispers in my ear. “Drag your hand across my chest, then down over my abs.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re hot and bothered and thrilled to be out with your man. This is your night to be with me before returning to your strait-laced-and-chaste-like-a-virgin life.”
“I’m no virgin.” My words cut through the air, propelled by more anger and irritation than I intend. “Sorry.”
I jerk my hand away from his chest, but he grips my wrist, turns it over, and drags his lips across the tender flesh of my inner wrist.
“I know.” With his eyes locked with mine, he shamelessly brushes his lips across my knuckles.
He closes the distance between us, not that there was much distance to begin with. Pulling me tight, he squishes my boobs against his chest—soft meeting hard. “Reach around and squeeze my ass.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not in the slightest. Hand on my ass, princess. Let’s show these bastards how insanely attracted we are to each other.”
Well, that’s not a problem. This job would be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t so goddamn good-looking. When he flashes that megawatt smile and follows it with a wink, he’s a total lady killer. The man knows exactly what he brings to the table.
“It’s just that I’m not used to this much PDA.” I loop my arms over his shoulders and turn my head to check out the crowd around us. Every female on the dance floor watches me with unrestrained envy. Several have tried to pull Liam away from me. They all failed.
I see none of the men on my security detail.
“If you don’t put your hands on my ass, I’m going to get very handsy and maul you on the dance floor.”
How much more handsy can he get? No sooner does that thought go through my head, than Liam sweeps his fingers over the soft swell of my breast. I unlock my hands from around his neck and quickly put them on his waist.
“That’s better, but my ass is lower than that.”
“Why am I doing this?”
“Because our visitors are streaming this live.”
My steps falter, not that it matters. Liam covers up my misstep by picking me up and twirling me in the air. Back on my feet, he whispers in my ear.
“Hands. Ass.”
Through all of this, a gaggle of eager bitches approach. They giggle as they surround us, dancing suggestively. I’m not sure what they thought will happen, but Liam isn’t having any of it.
His dismissal is cordial, a quick bump and grind, then he’s right back with me. His message is clear. He’s out to have a good time, but I’m with him.
He’s not looking for anyone else. Normally, that kind of possessiveness would be a turn-on. Who doesn’t like a protective male? But that’s not what Liam is to me.
He’s a pretend boyfriend I’ve been hiding from my family. An affair that will come to light in the morning when Liam returns me to work looking like I rolled out of bed with him still in it.
There are perks to this job.
I wish.
With the gaggle gone, I turn my attention to the crowd, both on the dance floor and off. If the men assigned to keep tabs on me are here, I don’t see them.
I don’t question Liam’s instincts. If anything, the one thing I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours is that my awareness of what happens around me is wholly inadequate.
By now, news of my all-nighter with Liam will have reached my uncle’s ears.
Hopefully, he’ll see tonight as proof I’m oblivious about what happened to Sybil. He’ll have no reason to think I know anything about the other women.
That’s the primary objective of this crazy night, and I hope my inexperience and gullibility doesn’t ruin that piece of it.