The Dating Plan(42)
“You were sheltering there.”
Liam frowned. “Why would I run to a bus stop instead of going into a building?”
“Because there were no buildings.” She tipped her head back in exasperation. “Why are you making this so difficult?”
“Where is this bus stop in the middle of nowhere?” Liam continued, enjoying the chance to ruffle her feathers. “Why would I be somewhere that only has a bus stop and no buildings? And why am I out in the rain?”
“I don’t know.” Daisy’s voice rose in pitch. “You’re supposed to be the one with the imagination. Not me. I can’t make things up on the spot. That story took me hours to create.”
“Why don’t we tell people the truth?” he suggested. “After losing touch for ten years, we met at a work conference—they don’t need to know which one. You realized who I was and—”
“I ran away.” Her lips curved in a smile as they reached the door.
“Then I chased you,” Liam said. “I caught you because I am bigger and faster . . .”
“And I called for the security guard and had you arrested.” She tucked her phone away, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “They took you to the police station and charged you with threatening behavior and assault. They stripped you down, gave you an orange jumpsuit and put you in a holding cell with a bunch of thugs. Things didn’t go well for you because the thugs took issue with your handsome face. Vengeance was served. The end.”
Liam stared at her, aghast. “For someone with no imagination, that’s a pretty detailed story.”
“Actually, it’s not mine. It’s a scene from the Bollywood film Jail. I put you in the role of Parag Dixit, who gets jailed for false possession of narcotics and evidence tampering. He is mentally and physically tortured for the entire movie. It’s one of my dad’s favorites.”
Liam’s smile faded. “Does it have a happy ending?”
“No.” She was laughing now, her eyes sparkling, so beautiful he couldn’t resist the urge to touch her.
Gently, he brushed her hair back, his fingers skimming over the soft skin of her shoulder. “Maybe we should practice . . .”
Her lips quivered at the corners, and she closed the distance between them, her voice husky and low. “For authenticity?”
“Exactly.”
She slid her free hand over his shoulder, soft breasts crushing against his chest. All his blood rushed down to his groin, taking with it the last vestiges of his rational thought. He locked his arms around her, pulling her so close he could feel each gentle breath as an exquisite stroke on his cock. Raw desire coursed through his veins as his hands skimmed over the sweet softness of her curves.
“Someone is watching us through the window,” she murmured, her breath warm on his cheek.
“All the more reason to put on a good show.” With one hand on her nape, he tipped back her head and covered her mouth with his own.
A moan escaped her lips, filling his head with thoughts of tangled sheets, banging headboards, sweat-slicked skin, and the realization of a fantasy that had consumed him night after sleepless night since she’d turned sixteen and he’d realized she wasn’t a little girl anymore.
He parted her lips with the gentle slide of his tongue, touching, tasting, savoring, pausing between heady sips to let her essence dance over his taste buds. With every breath he inhaled the fresh scent of wildflowers in a rain-soaked meadow, the grassy lawn where they’d played catch in the summer sun. He’d known she was smart and fun and beautiful. But this kiss. These feelings. The throbbing heat of desire. It was all completely new.
With a force of will he didn’t even knew he had, he pulled away, focused on the twitter of birds, the soft hum of an electric car, the faint laughter from inside the house—real sounds, safe sounds, grounding him in the moment instead of the past.
“I think we’ve got it down.” He gave a half laugh, trying to process what had happened. He’d kissed dozens of women over the years. Why was he so shaken?
For a long moment, Daisy didn’t move, face soft, plump lips swollen from his kiss. She swallowed hard and her gaze dropped below his belt where the evidence of his desire was barely hidden beneath his jeans. He draped his motorcycle jacket over his arm, creating a discrete shield and a barrier between them.
“Do you have something to hide, Liam?” All cool and calm like she hadn’t just blown his mind with her kiss, she gave him a teasing smile.
Yeah, he had something to hide . . . the truth. “Don’t want to scare the ladies.”
“This lady isn’t scared.”
He heard a cough and saw Aunt Fiona watching them through the glass door.
“Let’s go with the bus stop in the rain story,” he said, reaching for the door. “Does it have a happy ending?”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
? 16 ?
DAISY made a last check in the hallway mirror for anything that would reveal her inner geekiness. She’d decided to play it safe with a fifties-style dress and matching shoes. Although she’d hated to do it, she’d washed out her pink streaks and let her thick, dark hair fall loose and full around her shoulders. Still, an undercurrent of tension knotted her stomach. Working in Silicon Valley and being part of a large, vibrant desi community, she didn’t often find herself in places where she was the odd one out, and she didn’t do well in groups of strangers.