Page 60 of Fighting With Light

I take another bite and set my fork next to me. Liam takes the last bite and tosses the container and fork into the sink. Not sure what he’s about to do, I stay put because I like where this is going. He picks me up again and carries me to his room. My stomach flutters and my skin tingles, then he kicks the door shut with his foot.

“I should check the house again and make sure everything is locked up.”

I kiss his cheek and nod. “Yeah, you probably should.”

His large hands squeeze my butt then he tosses me onto the bed.

For a moment, I’m weightless as my body floats through the air for a second, and I land on the mattress with a puff. Before I can right myself, he’s crawling over my body. The fancy blouse I have on is scrunched up right below my chest and he presses his lips over my stomach.

Breathless, I lift my head and watch him get closer and closer to me until he’s hovering above my face. Our breath mingles and his hair tickles my cheekbones.

“I have a competition tomorrow, too.”

I hum, and we’re so close our lips brush together with the movement.

He searches my eyes and I wait with bated breath for his next move. I’ve never been so…tense and excited at the same time.

“Did you have fun tonight? It seems like you did,” he says, grinning.

I smile against his lips.

“Maybe we aren’t so different after all,” he says, and pecks my lips. Liam’s hips drop between my legs and I wrap my arms around his neck as he holds himself on his elbows.

I know we said this was temporary and we were willing to accept the consequences between us, but I have never felt this way about another human in my life. This feels so real to me that fake or temporary is hardly a word that I would use to describe us. It doesn’t matter what our circumstances are.

“Tu m’as consumé,” he mutters in my ear.

I lean back as far as I can since my back is on the bed. “Are you speaking French?”

He kisses my jaw and hums.

“You know French?”

“Yes, princess. I’m fluent in French,” he says, kissing that place right at the corner of my jaw and it makes me sigh.

“Why are you fluent in French?” I ask.

He groans and sits up. “Does it matter?”

“To me, it does. I want to know you, Liam. Do you know just French or other languages?”

He sighs and kisses me briefly. “I’m fluent in French, I know some Spanish and Portuguese. I’m picking up Balinese because I’m there so much.”

“But there’s no surfing or rock climbing in France, right?” I ask him.

He chuckles and presses his lips on mine, lingering for a minute.

My eyes close and I lose myself in the moment, then he pulls back. “Yes, actually, there are both, but that’s not why I learned it.”

“This should be good.”

He grins. “You’re going to think this is stupid, but it was to get the ladies. They like when a man says things to them in a different language.”

“You cannot be serious,” I mutter.

He laughs and leans into my ear, and says, “Je suis très sérieux à propos de ce que j’ai commencé à ressentir pour toi.” He pauses. “I can feel the way your body responds to me with every word, princess.”

I shudder with the way the vowels roll off his lips and into my ear. He nips the lobe and leans back. “You learned French so you could pick up girls?”