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Authors: Gennifer Albin
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work,” I admitted.
Liam grinned as he drew my mouth to his, kissing me softly on the lips before he turned his attention back to the steering wheel.
“Maybe you should kiss me one more time,” I said as he started to put the car in drive. "For courage.”
And also because I wasn’t likely to get him alone for more than five seconds this week. Tara would be on constant patrol. After the bathroom break Liam and I had taken during parents’ weekend, she’d already made it clear that she saw the two of us a ticking sex bomb. What she didn’t realize was that the longer she came between us, the apter that description was likely to prove.
Liam obliged my request, but this time his kiss wasn’t soft. It was urgent as if he suspected it might be our last for a while. I deepened it, inviting his tongue to explore my mouth. Within seconds I was squirming in my seat, trying to wiggle free of my seatbelt to get closer to him.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Liam whispered against my lips.
“It’s a good way to go.”
I leaned in to kiss him again when I was jolted back against my seat. Liam’s hand slammed into my stomach as though he could push me farther back, but the danger was past. The car, however, was in a ditch.
“My foot slipped off the brake,” he murmured, turning his blue eyes to me. They were wide with embarrassment.
“I was the one who told you to drive off the cliff,” I reminded him.
“I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship,” he said as he unbuckled and reached over to rub my neck.
“Because you wear the kilts,” I said. “Or, at least, you keep telling me that you do.”
“Getting Jess’s Camry out of the ditch with a kilt on would be interesting, but I have to admit I’m glad I’m wearing jeans.”
“I can’t say that I am. A kilt might calm me down. My heart is still racing.” I fanned myself dramatically.
“I promise that seeing me in a kilt would do nothing to calm you down.” He winked at me as he got out of the car to inspect the situation.
Before I could even open my door, he was there to make sure I got out safely. I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I could tell that it was wedged somehow in a sandy, gravel-like substance. I wasn't going to be little use in getting it out. Fortunately—or rather unfortunately—both my parents were already running up the drive.
“What on earth happened?” Tara shouted.
“Good to see you, too,” I said under my breath, bracing myself for an awkward hug from my mother.
My Dad began inspecting the situation without question. Within seconds he and Liam were wrapped up in plots to get it out of the ditch, which left me to contend with Tara, who had bypassed the awkward hug altogether and gone straight to making judgmental commentary on the sidelines.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.” I managed to make the greeting sound nearly sincere, but she cocked her eyebrow anyway.
“Don’t take that tone with me.”
“What tone?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips. “The jovial-spirit-of-the-holidays tone?”
“It’s the same every year,” Tara said with a sigh. “I don’t know why I asked you to come back at all. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”
“Careful or you're going to get visited by the ghosts of Christmas past.”
“Perhaps, he’ll come for both of us,” she said.
I bit back the numerous responses crowding my mouth. I wasn’t going to win this one with Tara, and the longer that things stayed civil, the better. Four adults under one roof, two of which were going to be suffering from involuntary celibacy, was bound to cause some stress.
“I think we just need to get the wheels turned the right direction and you can back up,” Dad told me, attempting a half hug that I accepted gratefully.
“I still want to know how you wound up in that ditch,” Tara said. “Were you two fooling around?”
This time I couldn’t hold back. “I’m not sure. I had my
Liam grinned as he drew my mouth to his, kissing me softly on the lips before he turned his attention back to the steering wheel.
“Maybe you should kiss me one more time,” I said as he started to put the car in drive. "For courage.”
And also because I wasn’t likely to get him alone for more than five seconds this week. Tara would be on constant patrol. After the bathroom break Liam and I had taken during parents’ weekend, she’d already made it clear that she saw the two of us a ticking sex bomb. What she didn’t realize was that the longer she came between us, the apter that description was likely to prove.
Liam obliged my request, but this time his kiss wasn’t soft. It was urgent as if he suspected it might be our last for a while. I deepened it, inviting his tongue to explore my mouth. Within seconds I was squirming in my seat, trying to wiggle free of my seatbelt to get closer to him.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Liam whispered against my lips.
“It’s a good way to go.”
I leaned in to kiss him again when I was jolted back against my seat. Liam’s hand slammed into my stomach as though he could push me farther back, but the danger was past. The car, however, was in a ditch.
“My foot slipped off the brake,” he murmured, turning his blue eyes to me. They were wide with embarrassment.
“I was the one who told you to drive off the cliff,” I reminded him.
“I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship,” he said as he unbuckled and reached over to rub my neck.
“Because you wear the kilts,” I said. “Or, at least, you keep telling me that you do.”
“Getting Jess’s Camry out of the ditch with a kilt on would be interesting, but I have to admit I’m glad I’m wearing jeans.”
“I can’t say that I am. A kilt might calm me down. My heart is still racing.” I fanned myself dramatically.
“I promise that seeing me in a kilt would do nothing to calm you down.” He winked at me as he got out of the car to inspect the situation.
Before I could even open my door, he was there to make sure I got out safely. I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I could tell that it was wedged somehow in a sandy, gravel-like substance. I wasn't going to be little use in getting it out. Fortunately—or rather unfortunately—both my parents were already running up the drive.
“What on earth happened?” Tara shouted.
“Good to see you, too,” I said under my breath, bracing myself for an awkward hug from my mother.
My Dad began inspecting the situation without question. Within seconds he and Liam were wrapped up in plots to get it out of the ditch, which left me to contend with Tara, who had bypassed the awkward hug altogether and gone straight to making judgmental commentary on the sidelines.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.” I managed to make the greeting sound nearly sincere, but she cocked her eyebrow anyway.
“Don’t take that tone with me.”
“What tone?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips. “The jovial-spirit-of-the-holidays tone?”
“It’s the same every year,” Tara said with a sigh. “I don’t know why I asked you to come back at all. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”
“Careful or you're going to get visited by the ghosts of Christmas past.”
“Perhaps, he’ll come for both of us,” she said.
I bit back the numerous responses crowding my mouth. I wasn’t going to win this one with Tara, and the longer that things stayed civil, the better. Four adults under one roof, two of which were going to be suffering from involuntary celibacy, was bound to cause some stress.
“I think we just need to get the wheels turned the right direction and you can back up,” Dad told me, attempting a half hug that I accepted gratefully.
“I still want to know how you wound up in that ditch,” Tara said. “Were you two fooling around?”
This time I couldn’t hold back. “I’m not sure. I had my
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