Page 11 of Backup Plan

I don’t know what I expected out of Liam Bradley’s bedroom, but this wasn’t it. I guess I was expecting a messy bachelor pad with an unmade bed and empty cereal bowls littering the nightstand and video game wires hanging all over the place, but instead, this is gorgeous. Elegant, even, with the glossy white furniture, black curtains, and black, white, and khaki bedding. A black leather couch sits across one wall, and a black leather recliner is in the corner.

It’s not just a bedroom. It’s a space for relaxation, play, and sex. It’s a room for a mature adult, and I guess I’ve never looked at the twenty-six-year-old younger brother of my best friend in that light.

I’m sure looking at him like that now, though.

It’s sexy and luxurious, like the man himself, apparently, and a twist of wistfulness pings through my chest that this is the only time I’m going to get to be in here.

It doesn’t have to be, a tiny voice tells me.

Yes, it does. Now shut up and let’s get to the good stuff.

I shake my head to quiet the voices, and Liam appears in the doorway. He’s a man on a mission, and he stops short of me.

He hands me the bottle of water from earlier. “You said you were drunk, and that’s why this is a bad idea. Drink.”

I follow his instructions, and it’s actually very sweet how he’s treating me. Do men like this actually exist? Or is he just being nice because I’m his sister’s friend?

I chug the bottle as he kicks off his shoes, and I do feel a bit more clear-headed after it’s empty. And the clarity is telling me that I deserve this night.

I sit on the edge of his bed, which has the softest blanket my fingers have ever touched. I reach down and pull my shoes off one at a time, and Liam walks over so he’s standing in front of me.

He reaches down to take my hands in his. “It’s okay if you don’t want this, Pen. But to be clear, I do. Very much.”

I pull to a stand, and he doesn’t budge or move back. Our bodies are aligned in the front, though I’m several inches shorter than him than I was before now that my shoes are off. I look up into his eyes, and I see a man looking at me with such desire, such unabashed need, that my thighs clench again, and a deep, dark ache pulses between my legs.

“I do, too,” I whisper.

He wastes no time, dropping my hands and looping one arm around my waist, setting the other on the back of my head as his mouth crashes to mine.

And then I’m lost. His tongue thrashes in my mouth, and I want it on my body. I love kissing him, but I’m aching everywhere to take this to the next level. I push my hips toward his to give him the hint, and he moves his hand from the back of my head and lifts me onto the bed, his mouth never moving from mine.

My skirt is in the way, but he pushes it up as he moves over me. He can see my panties, and I have no clue what sort of random bra and panty set I chose this morning when I got dressed, but whatever it was, it’s likely old and dingy and not at all sexy since I had absolutely zero inclination that I’d end up in a pro football player’s bed by the end of the night. If I had, maybe I would’ve done things differently…but he doesn’t seem to mind whatever it is that I do have on, so I push the thought away.

I need to get out of my own head and just enjoy the moment. He’s enjoying it. I want that, too.

He’s hovering, teasing as he slams his hips to mine. He hitches my leg up and settles between my thighs, and I wrap both legs around his waist as his hips buck to mine.

I grow desperate, needy, as he does it again and again. I’m moaning, panting, frantic as he pulls his mouth from mine and trails his lips down my neck, running a hand down my torso to my hip and back up again, this time landing on my breast. He massages it, and he lifts off me to pull my red sweater over my head. It lands somewhere on the floor, and he works my bra next. Great. I went with a faded white one this morning, basically the mom bra that’s the least sexy of them all—one of the few where the underwire hasn’t come out in the wash and still fits.

He doesn’t care, though. He just wants what’s under it.

The second the bra is off, his mouth is on my tits, and I arch back at the feel of his mouth on me.

Oh my God.

Holy shit.

It’s like a freaking wave of pleasure as he licks and sucks, pinches and bites. Was it like this before, or has sex changed? In all these years I’ve been with one man while he was out with who knows how many women…is this what I’ve been missing out on?

Because…damn.

Liam Bradley knows what the hell he’s doing, and he’s only just getting started.

CHAPTER 4: Liam Bradley

I Need a Second

When I sat down at Penny’s table tonight, I never in a million years could have imagined this is where it would lead.