Page 15

LIAM

Campus is mostly quiet this late, with only the occasional student hurrying between buildings, hunched against the weather.

Right now, my brain is only telling me to do one thing…

Don’t fuck this up.

Not the physical part—I've got plenty of experience there—but whatever's happening between us that feels weightier than just attraction.

More consequential.

"You're quiet.”

Piper looks over as she cuts the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the sound of rain on the roof.

"Just thinking," I reply, my usual quips deserting me.

"A dangerous pastime for hockey players.”

She smiles, but even that sexy grin can’t hide the tremor in her voice.

She’s nervous. And for the first time, so I am.

I reach across the center console, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

“Speaking of ‘thinking’…” I start. My gaze lowers then lifts again.

“If you're having second thoughts, like I said before…we can do anything else. Play Tiddlywinks. Stare at the walls. Actually make an attempt at studying.” She snorts softly, and my thumb reaches to trace her jaw. “We don't have to do this, you know.."

“And are you?” Her eyes meet mine in the dim glow of the parking lot lights. “Thinking about Tiddlywinks? Having second thoughts? About this? About…me?”

"No. But I also don't want to rush something that feels..."

"Important?”

I nod.

She exhales. “Tonight’s the perfect night. Abigail’s definitely at her boyfriend’s. We’ve got the place to ourselves.” A beat. Then—“I want this. I want you.”

Hearing the conviction in her voice—the words soft and sure and so damn certain—ignites something molten in my chest.

I lean across the console and kiss her, slow at first, tasting the rain on her lips.

But then her hand fists in my collar and we’re no longer careful.

Just craving.

“Take me inside,” she whispers, mouth brushing mine. “Before my neighbors call campus security.”

We bolt through the downpour, laughing like grade schoolers, like we’re getting away with something sacred.

Inside, her apartment smells faintly of cinnamon and old books.

The lamp in the corner casts a glow across her living room, turning the space intimate. Inviting.

It feels like her.

Quietly brilliant. Warm.

A little chaotic beneath the neat surface.

“I’ll grab us towels—” she starts, but I catch her wrist, pulling her back.

“Come here first.”

She steps closer. Soaked hair clinging to her cheeks. Burgundy dress clinging to every curve like it’s painted on.

Breasts rising and falling with uneven breath.

God.

My hands shake a little as I touch her waist, and I don’t even try to hide it.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. “Not just like this—though holy hell, definitely like this—but when you challenge me. When you hold your ground. When you care more than anyone else in the room.”

“I thought you found me uptight,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I find you perfect,” I murmur. And I mean it.

She rises up and kisses me, and suddenly the fuse is lit. The spark turns wildfire.

Her fingers work at my shirt buttons, cold from the rain but warming quickly against my skin.

"You’re definitely overdressed," she informs me between kisses, pushing the damp shirt from my shoulders.

My hands finding the zipper at the back of her dress. "Says the woman still in formal wear.”

"Bedroom," she directs, taking my hand and leading me down the short hallway.

Her room is neat but not sterile.

Bookshelves overflowing.

A bulletin board covered in color-coded notes.

A bed with rumpled ivory sheets that suggests she made it hastily that morning.

It's so perfectly Piper that something in my chest constricts.

She turns to face me, suddenly hesitant. "I should warn you, it's been a while for me. Between the podcast and fellowship applications and?—"

I silence her with a kiss. "We'll go as slow as you want."

"And if I don't want slow?"

She pushes me toward the bed and I laugh against her mouth, as that spark in her eyes returns. "Then we'll start with fast and work our way to slow."

Her fingers thread through my hair as I find the zipper of her dress again, lowering it slowly inch by inch.

The fabric parts, revealing smooth skin that I immediately need to taste.

My lips trace the curve of her shoulder, down to the delicate line of her collarbone, earning a soft gasp that I already know I want to hear again.

"You've thought about this," she gasps as I ease dress down her body.

"More than I should admit," I confess, taking in the sight of her in simple black undergarments that somehow look more erotic than any fancy lingerie. "You?"

A blush spreads across her cheeks. "Maybe. For research purposes."

"What kind of research?" I ask, trailing kisses down her neck as my hands explore the curves of her waist.

"Human behavior under conditions of physical attraction.” Her breath hitches as my thumbs brush the undersides of her lace-covered breasts. "Specifically, the physiological responses to—oh!””

Her scientific explanation dissolves into a moan as my mouth lowers, replacing my hands.

Worshipping the soft skin of her cleavage, her ribs, her hips, I explore what makes her gasp.

What makes her fingers tighten in my hair. What makes her whisper my name like a revelation.

"Any preliminary findings?" I tease, looking up at her flushed face.

"Inconclusive," She moans, writhing beneath me as my fingers slip beneath the band of her panties, removing them slowly, slipping them over the curve of each soft knee. “We need a larger data sample, and?—“

The words break into a cry, as I learn the language of her body in the dark.

How she quivers when I suck just right.

How she chants my name when I press inside with two fingers and coax her open, her orgasm rising sharp and sudden like a storm surge.

When she falls apart for the first time, it’s not quiet. It’s not composed.

It’s Piper.

Unleashed. Undone.

And wholly mine.

Even as her orgasm subsides, I can’t stop touching her.

"I'm happy to assist with your research.” I offer, even as my hands slide down to her hips. "I take scientific inquiry very seriously."

She laughs, the sound warming me more than any physical touch. "I've created a monster."

I agree, letting her push me back onto the bed. “You've created something,"

She straddles my lap, her hands splayed across my chest. "For someone who claims to prefer spontaneity, you're moving very methodically, Sullivan."

"Just trying to speak your language, Thompson.”

She reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. “My language includes less talking.”

Whatever witty response I might have had evaporates at the sight of her.

Fully naked.

Dammit.

I've been with women before.

Some even beautiful, but this?

There is no comparison.

Piper Thompson. In all her soft, intelligent, witty, gorgeously fucking naked glory is worlds away from any other being on this planet.

And I’m a lucky bastard just to be invited into her universe.

After a moment, she grins down at me. "You're staring.”

"Can't help it.” I sit up to kiss her properly. “Woman, you are stunning."

Her smile against my lips is all the encouragement I need.

I flip our positions, lowering her gently to the mattress, determined to show her exactly how stunning I find her.

With my hands. My mouth. My body.

For all her careful planning in everyday life, Piper is an entirely different animal in private.

And I fucking love it.

I love how she bends and bows into my hands—directing me with breathless instructions, unabashed, and unashamed.

Until finally…

"Condom," she gasps eventually, reaching toward her nightstand with admirable practicality even as her other hand remains tangled in my hair.

“God bless your planning skills.”

“You won’t be saying that if we can’t find?—”

But I’m already rolling it on.

I hover above her, waiting, asking silently.

She lifts her hips in answer, and I slide inside so slowly it feels like punishment.

Her gasp shreds me. Her nails bite into my back. Her thighs wrap around me like they can’t let go.

Her body curves beneath mine, all wet skin and sharp need, and when her walls clench around me, hot and tight and impossibly soft, I have to shut my eyes for a second.

Just to breathe through it.

“Jesus, Piper…” I murmur, my voice already wrecked.

She’s panting, head tipped back against the pillows, her legs wrapped tight around my waist like she’s scared I’ll pull away.

Not a chance in hell.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I say, bracing on one forearm so I can slide my hand between us, brushing my thumb over the slick, swollen bundle of nerves where she’s pulsing for me.

Her entire body jolts. “Liam.”

That sound—my name like a prayer and a curse all at once—makes my hips jerk, grinding me deeper inside her.

I stroke her clit in slow, steady circles, matching the rhythm of my thrusts, and she arches hard, her pink pebbled nipples pressing to my chest, her nails dragging across my back in desperate lines.

“You’re perfect like this,” I rasp, thrusting deeper. “Fucking trembling. Coming apart for me.”

“You talk too much,” she gasps, eyes fluttering as she tries to glare and fails, ruined by pleasure.

“You love it,” I growl, driving into her harder, the slap of our skin filling the space between breaths. “You’re soaking wet for it.”

“God, yes,” she whimpers, one hand buried in my hair, the other digging into my ass to pull me closer. “More.”

I give it to her. I give her everything.

The rhythm turns carnal. Unrelenting.

I shift my angle, tilting her hips up, and when I hit just right—that spot—she cries out, her whole body tensing beneath me.

“There?” I pant, watching her unravel.

“Yes—fuck, Liam, right there, don’t stop?—”

I don’t. I can’t.

I’m mesmerized.

Her lips fall open in a silent scream as I feel her orgasm ripple through her—tight, frantic pulses around my cock as her body bows beneath mine.

But I’m not done with her.

I slow only long enough to let her catch a breath before flipping her onto her stomach, pulling her ass back into me.

“Trust me?” I whisper against her ear, running a hand down the curve of her spine.

She nods without hesitation, voice breathless. “Yes.”

I thrust into her again from behind, this time deeper, harder, driving her forward on the mattress.

She moans so loudly I have to clamp a hand over her mouth, grinning into her hair.

“You’ll wake the whole damn building,” I rasp into the shell of her soft ear.

She reaches back, nails scraping down my thigh. “Then fuck me quietly.”

Jesus Christ.

I do.

My hips slap against the curve of her ass, wet and obscene, the sounds of our bodies echoing against the walls.

I reach beneath her again, fingers circling her clit as I piston into her, sweat dripping from my brow, her name a swear on my sluggish tongue.

She comes again fast and hard, spasming around me with a hoarse, muffled cry, and this time I go with her.

Buried deep, groaning into her neck as I spill inside the condom, heart racing like I just scored a game-winning goal in overtime.

We collapse into the mattress, a tangle of limbs and heat and breathless satisfaction.

But even now, my hand is still on her.

Still learning her.

Tracing the curve of her hip. The indent of her waist. The freckles at the base of her spine.

She turns her face toward me, soft brown hair sticking to her cheek, lips puffy and curved into a dazed, sated smile.

“I’m definitely submitting a write-up,” she murmurs.

I laugh softly, brushing a kiss between her brown brows. “Need a follow-up trial? According to the Scientific Method, several rounds of experimentation are the only way to reach a well-formed conclusion.” I kiss the tip of her nose, staring. “And I want us to be thorough.”

“Oh, absolutely.” She rolls to face me fully, eyes gleaming. “We’ll need multiple data points. And a rigorous testing protocol.”

My cock twitches, already threatening a second round.

She notices. Smirks. Slides hand her hand down my stomach, fingers trailing toward where I’m already half-hard again.

“Looks like this subject is eager to participate.”

“I’m an overachiever,” I mutter, catching her wrist and pinning her beneath me once more.

And then, in the golden lamplight, with rain still tapping the windows like a lullaby, we begin again—this time slower, deeper, more reverent than before.

Because this isn’t just sex.

It’s the beginning of something we can’t quite name yet.

But we feel it.

In every kiss. Every thrust. Every whispered breath between our bodies.

Something real.

In the early hours of morning, as she sleeps curled against me, I find myself watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and thinking that spontaneity has never led me somewhere so right.

Hockey can break your bones.

Games can break your spirit, but this?

Whatever this is becoming between us feels like it could break something far more fundamental.

And for the first time in my life, I might be okay with that kind of risk.