Page 83
Story: Pucking His Enemy
“Shit—no. No, Katarina, we can’t.”
He pulls back, panting, hand still shaking in my hair as he eases me off.
The rejection hits like a slap.
“Liam,” I breathe, confused, wrecked, lips swollen.
He tucks himself back into his pants with fingers that won’t cooperate, like he’s angry with them for listening to his better judgment.
I stand, unsteady, lips tingling, thighs pressed together because I’m soaked. Desperate. On the verge of begging.
He swallows, hard. Eyes locked on mine. “That almost broke me.”
“Why did you stop me?”
His jaw flexes. “Because I want you. Too much. And if I don’t stop now…” He looks away like the truth might rip him open. “I’ll forget what this is supposed to be.”
I almost tell him the truth right then.
That I already let him have me once.
That we’ve already crossed every line.
That his mouth has been all over me and I still think about the way he made me come.
But I don’t. I stay quiet, because the second I say it out loud, this whole thing detonates.
He takes a step back, chest rising and falling like he just survived something. His voice is hoarse. “You deserve more than this. More than me losing my shit in your hallway.”
I don’t move. I can’t. My legs are jelly and my chest is tight. He nods once, like he’s made some brutal decision, and steps into the night.
The door clicks shut behind him. And I’m left standing there in the wreckage. I finally let go of the tears burning behind my eyes.
I slide down the wall, dress bunched around my thighs, body trembling.
Still tasting him.
Still aching like he took something vital with him and I’m too stupid—or too scared—to chase after it.
Chapter twenty-four
Liam
Myphone’sbuzzingbeforeI’ve even finished my first cup of coffee. Six AM calls are never good news—they’re either someone’s dead or someone’s about to be.
I glance at the screen and my jaw clenches.
Coach Dawson.
Fuck me.
I’m still buzzing from last night. Still tasting Katarina on my lips, still feeling the ghost of her mouth wrapped around my cock. The way she looked up at me with those storm-gray eyes while she sucked me like her life depended on it—Christ, I nearly lost it right there in her hallway.
Then I had to go and ruin it by walking away like a damn asshole.
“Coach,” I answer, not bothering to hide the gravel in my voice.
“What the hell are you doing, son?”
Table of Contents
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