Page 93 of Over the Line

I laughed even as my dick got uncomfortably harder in my jeans. Yeah, I could relate. Falling into bed and tearing off each other’s clothes sounded amazing. Especially getting dicked down by this gorgeous man.

And am I good with us going bareback? Really?

The resounding YES that came from somewhere in my mind was non-negotiable. I was absolutely good with it. I couldn’t wait for it.

“Well,” I said, suddenly out of breath. “I guess we just have to hope the anticipation doesn’t kill us.”

Liam chuckled. “I know, right?” He rolled his eyes again. “In the meantime, I think some of the West Coast games are on. You want to watch some hockey? See what I have stacked up on Netflix?”

“Netflix sounds good. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He smiled, unaware of what that did to my body temperature. Gesturing at the coffee table, he said, “Could you hand me the remote?”

I did, and we settled in to watch some obscure dark comedy series he’d been hooked on for the last couple of seasons. Yeah, I was still horny as hell and frustrated that we couldn’t do more than cuddle—carefully—on the couch. Yeah, I wanted him to take me to bed and make good on that promise to dick me down.

But I was here. He was here. We were together, enjoying each other’s company. I loved the closeness. The gentle affection. Just… being next to him.

Everything else?

We’d get there.

CHAPTER 22

LIAM

We stayed on my couch until much too late. Long after we’d lost interest in the show, we were still here, just drinking coffee and exchanging stories about our lives.

Kissing, too. Despite my bitchy neck and shoulder, there was a ton of kissing. Lazy, gentle, kisses. A long one now and then. A playful peck. A featherlight sip of each other. We weren’t going to do anything wild tonight, but that didn’t stop us from cuddling up together. This was something I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time—someone who was affectionate and tactile, and who didn’t read every brush of my lips or fingertips as initiating sex. I loved sex as much as the next person, and God knew I wanted Garrett’s body, but this was something I’d been craving a lot more than I’d realized.

This had to be one of the most decadent encounters I’d ever had with a man, and even though I knew it was pointless, I couldn’t help wishing it would never end.

At some point, though…

Garrett checked his phone, and he hissed a curse. Facing me again, he whispered, “It’s late.”

I sighed, sliding my fingers through the thin salt-and-pepper hair on his forearm. “I know.”

He pressed the softest kiss to my forehead. “I should get home. I have to work tomorrow.”

I nodded. “And I’ve got practice. I guess we should…” I tilted my head toward the door.

“Yeah.” He deflated a little, watching his hand drift down my arm. “As much as I’d love to stay here…” He tensed. “Not… Not that I’d impose if⁠—”

I kissed him hard enough to shut him up. When he was good and breathless, I drew back. “You wouldn’t be imposing. If I had it my way, we’d be here until breakfast. Maybe longer.”

The shiver that ran through his gorgeous body made me seriously consider doing that after all, consequences be damned.

But… no. He had to get to his job. I had to be on time to practice. Early, really; that C on my sweater brought with it an unspoken rule that I had to be one of the first to arrive and among the last to leave,

Step one: don’t let myself get carried away and spend the night with Garrett. Especially since I was already sore enough that practice was going to be rough.

So, reluctantly, we pried ourselves apart, got up, and went back to the kitchen to deposit our coffee cups in the sink. Then Garrett was pulling on his jacket, but I wasn’t ready for him to leave. Not right this second. And in fact…

“Listen, before you go…”

He turned to me. “Hmm?”

“Remember on Thanksgiving, when you asked about the two open bays in my garage?”