Page 44 of My Killer Blind Date

Liam looks at me and runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back. He’s soaking. I’m soaking.

‘How so?’

I want to spout, Because you managed not to answer a single one of my questions, but your god-level biceps make me want to take out my frustrations in a very specific, pantsless way upon your naked body, duh! Instead, I make a growling, helpless sound in my throat.

And then, because I’m a double idiot, I’m leaning forward. Our lips meet and his tongue pushes into my mouth, both soft and assertive. In the tight confines of the front seat, he cups my cheek and I angle toward him, knocking my knee into the gear shift. I stroke my hand up his neck, splaying my fingers in his damp hair as he grunts softly into my mouth. Then his mouth is burning its way down my jaw, my neck.

‘So, I take it you mean maddening in a good way,’ he says, his breath hot on the wet track marks he’s left down my throat.

All I manage is another groan as I lean my head back, feeling his lips against my pulse, and the corresponding pulse between my legs, beating against the tight press of my cut-offs. I climb one leg over the center of the car, so I’m halfway in Liam’s lap. My breasts brush against his chest, and the explosion of raw sensation makes me gasp.

Liam’s mouth moves to my collarbone, his fingers pushing aside the strap of my tank top, and dear heavens, I’d forgotten how good my body was capable of feeling. His hands, his mouth, the way he’s working my body with these kisses, it feels so capable, so expert—

Is this how he got those other women?

‘Urghhhh—’ I groan again, warring between the heat that’s possessing my body and the caution I should be exercising. With a supreme thrust of willpower, I pull back from my half-straddle, panting.

Like the sun hiding behind the clouds, Liam’s golden retriever energy has also disappeared. His dark eyes are possessive. Dangerous. And yet he’s restrained.

‘Too much?’ he says, his voice low.

More like it wasn’t enough.

‘I just figured I needed a little break …’ I say, trying to keep my tone light even though what I’m feeling is anything but. I awkwardly climb back to my side as Liam watches me quietly, then I smooth my hair back and adjust my tank top, trying to ignore the persistent throbbing between my legs that wants me to do very, very foolish things in this car in a very public parking lot with a potential serial killer.

But I am smarter than that … right? Right.

‘Let’s go back to my place,’ Liam says, giving me a look that tells me exactly the kind of things he hopes might happen there.

My first reaction is perfect! I’ve been wanting to get into his place since our second date at Wine & Thistle. On the other hand, is it advisable to go in this state, with every nerve ending tingling in anticipation of his touch?

‘Where do you live again?’

‘Wicker Park, off Milwaukee Avenue.’ He reads my hesitation. ‘It’s a nice place too. You’ll like it. New construction, corner lot, cute little balcony, chef’s kitchen. I’d love to show you what I can do in that kitchen.’ His voice goes low, inviting, intimate. ‘What do you say?’

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.

I can already picture it. A series of very hot images of Liam and me in various positions rolls through my head like a movie. After we’ve had our fill of pleasure, we lie back in bed, flushed. I’m smiling. Relaxed. And then, just as I’m at my most vulnerable, something in Liam’s eyes shifts, and before I know it, I’m walking toward the light and he’s stuffing my corpse into his deep freezer. Which he definitely didn’t deny having.

I know I’m in real trouble when the lizard-brained side of me says, meh, might be worth the risk?

‘I can’t,’ I say.

He doesn’t respond for a second, but I can see the disappointment in his face, and I know he was expecting a yes. A passionate yes.

I’m disappointed too – both sides of me. The side that wanted to investigate and the side that wanted to have reckless sexual relations with an inadvisably risky partner.

He looks at me with hooded eyes. ‘So – there’s nothing I can say or do to convince you to come home with me?’

‘I … I appreciate the invitation, but … I have a meeting. Tomorrow morning. I should … get some sleep.’

‘It’s not even dark out yet. And I’m an excellent cook. Then I can drop you off at home.’

‘It’s an early meeting …’

He looks at me with tender skepticism. ‘You have a meeting on Sunday?’

‘You had one last weekend!’