Seconds later, he broke free of my mouth and shoved the table across the booth floor, creating more space for us. Then he lifted me to straddle his lap.
“Liam, we can’t do this!” I hissed, eyes wide. Sure, people were pretty open around the Armory, but this was a public bar. “We’ll get thrown out.”
“Mick’s a friend,” he told me, eyes dark and intent. “Don’t worry about it.”
He leaned forward and nuzzled my br**sts, which were conveniently located in front of his face. The corset served them up like a f**king buffet. Shit, were people watching us?
“Jesus, you got good tits,” he said, not sounding quite like himself. Rougher somehow. Then he slid a hand down my back and grabbed my ass, crushing me into his hips. I think my womb clenched. Or something did. If it wasn’t my womb, I had a very confused appendix. Liam grabbed my hair with his other hand and pulled me in for another kiss.
This one went straight past gentle, all hard and deep and full of desperate hunger. I shifted my hips, unconsciously rocking over the rapidly stiffening length of his cock. He responded by pushing up at me, grasping my hips. Eyes closed, I gave in to sensation. Even with all the fabric between us, my clit felt everything and was begging for more. I rocked harder, my desire for him blowing up like a match striking pavement.
Liam’s mouth tore away from me.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I did. His eyes were dark pools of hunger, so intense my insides twisted. “Unhook the front of this corset thing you’re wearing. I want to see you.”
I shook my head, but his fingers dug into my hips, dragging me back and forth across his now-solid cock. Holy shit, that felt good.
“Do it,” he ordered. I nodded, forgetting why I’d protested.
I reached for the little hooks down the center of my corset, popping the top half of them open. My br**sts spilled out. A small part of my brain screamed that anyone could see us, but when I glanced around, there was nobody. The high walls of the booth gave us total privacy and the tables across from us were empty.
Liam studied me carefully for a moment, then leaned forward and caught my left nipple with his teeth.
I shuddered, terrified that he’d bite me and that he wouldn’t, all at once.
No biting, though. Nope. He sucked it in deep, dropping his body lower on the bench. The hard edge of the table against my back didn’t make it easy, but somehow he managed to deepen my back-and-forth slide along the ridge of his erection. If it wasn’t for our pants, I’d have him inside me.
Stupid pants.
Liam groaned, then let me go abruptly. He lifted me by my hips and set me down on the bench next to him.
“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice tight and tense.
I looked at him blankly. My clit wanted to know why we’d stopped, because she was not a happy camper about it. Neither were the girls up top. Liam took a deep, ragged breath, eyes intense.
“Are we having sex?” he asked bluntly. “Because if we aren’t, I need to go jerk off. Not trying to pressure you, Em, but it’s the f**kin’ truth.”
A wave of lust hit me hard, and I made my decision.
“Let me text my friends,” I said breathlessly. “Then we can go back to the hotel.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” I whispered. “I’m sure.”
I don’t know what I expected after that. Maybe a stately exchange of text messages with Sophie and Kimber, followed by all of us walking back to the hotel together. They’d meet him, we’d all laugh, and then when they quietly gave me a thumbs-up, I’d steal him away.
But Liam was a man of action.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth, all but dragging me behind him as I clutched my corset closed in shock. To my surprise, we headed toward the back of the bar instead of the front door. Brushing past a muscular guy who slapped Liam on the back, I followed him down a darkened hallway. On our right were some dubious-looking bathrooms. On the left was a door, which Liam opened, pulling me in.
HUNTER
If I’ve learned one thing in this life, it’s that lying to yourself is a waste of time.
This hadn’t stopped me from pretending tonight was all about the club, and that Em was just a means to an end. Leverage against the Reapers.
It wouldn’t be the first time I f**ked a chick for the Devil’s Jacks, and God knew taking her wouldn’t keep me up nights. I’d done far worse things, and that was a fact. But Christ, Em was gorgeous and even worse, she was funny and cute and I was pretty sure she’d taken over one whole region of my brain. About a week ago, I’d convinced her to send a picture of herself in bed. To hell with p**n , that shy little pic of her wearing an old T-shirt did it for me every time.
There was a part of me that had whispered she couldn’t possibly be as hot as I remembered, or as sweet as she sounded on the phone. That’s what I wanted to believe—no, needed to believe.
But I’d taken one look at her in that bar and it was all over.
Now my dick was so hard I thought it might punch through my pants. Seriously. Complete loss of thinking power. I have never wanted to f**k a woman more in my life. And yeah, I’m a douche, but I hadn’t planned to actually screw her in Mick’s office. That was before I tasted her and realized I’d die if I didn’t get inside what I was pretty damned sure was the hottest snatch I’d ever feel clamped around my cock.
I slammed the door shut behind us, the dim glow of a single lamp lighting the little room. Thank Christ there was a couch in here. A longish leather one, and while it probably wasn’t the cleanest, it wasn’t the worst place I’d screwed a girl.