Page 80 of Corrupted Pleasure

“Do you have any hobbies?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Apart from eating your pussy?” he retorted. Failed attempt at diversion. I rolled my eyes ready to offer him an insolent comeback, but he beat me to it. “I believe you sucking my cock will be another favorite hobby.”

I blew out an exasperated breath. “Any non-sexual hobbies?”

He chuckled, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Boating.”

“Boating?” I scoffed. “That gigantic boat cannot be called boating. It’s a goddamn house on the water. You could barely feel the waves while on it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Luxury boating?”

“I guess so,” I mused. Maybe we have a bit in common. I loved boating too, though I never had the luxury of spending time on a yacht. Not until the other night. “I like boating too,” I admitted.

His eyebrow shot up. “Really?”

I nodded. “Yes, I grew up in this little beach town where there was nothing to do but fish, boat, or lounge around the beach.”

“It actually sounds pretty relaxing.”

I smiled. “It is but it can get boring. My grandfather made it exciting.”

“You’re close with your grandfather.” It was a statement but I still nodded.

“Yes, very much so. My parents-” I paused for a second but then decided to just spit it out. “My parents didn’t want a kid, so he was all I had. I was very lucky because he’s amazing. ”

“Your parents are probably regretting it,” he said softly. “You are pretty amazing yourself.”

I wasn’t quite sure I’d qualify as amazing. The girls and I had done some not-so-amazing things. It was time to change the subject.

I tilted my head, observing him. “How about you? Any childhood memories you miss?”

He actually looked like he was thinking about it. “I’d say spending my summers in Ireland. For a few years, we lived there exclusively. But then I came back and had to work on getting back what my father lost. But whenever I could, I’d go back in the summer and spend a few weeks there.”

“I read that the best time to visit Ireland is in July.”

He shook his head, amusement passing his expression. “Actually, I’d recommend September. Less tourists.”

“Those damn tourists.” I chuckled. “Are you close with your father or grandfather?” I asked him curiously.

“My grandfather was killed before I was born,” he answered, his expression tight. “When I was a little boy, my father was my hero. Then things happened and we drifted apart. But I am close to my sister.”

I sensed a long and bad story there.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered and returned my attention to my food.

We ate the rest of our dinner in silence. Truthfully, I’d been done with my food for a while, but I kept moving it around my plate so it looked like I was still eating. Something about this whole dinner had me on edge. I felt like a prey that had already been caught.

Even worse, I behaved like I wanted to be caught. By him.

Liam leaned back against his seat, his gaze burning my cheek. Analytical. Studious. Lustful. And my heart tripped over its next beat.

I ached for him. My pulse was shaky and so were my hands. So I gripped my fork as if my life depended on it, hiding the impact this man had on me. He was too much, though at the same time it wasn’t enough. Not until I’d feel his skin against mine. His hands on my aching core.

“Wine?” he offered, leaning back in his chair. I shook my head, placing my fork down. “Or would you prefer my most expensive cognac?”

Of course. He caught us in his beach house. Every single crime we had committed so far, we had gotten caught. One way or another. Well, except Chicago.

“I want your most expensive cognac,” I told him.