invitation.
He sucked hard on her nipple as he slid his finger inside her. Slick, hot muscle closed around him, so tight and wet he groaned.
“Take your jeans off. I want to see you. I want to touch you,” Zoe panted.
She drove her fingers into his hair and dragged his head up from her breasts so he was forced to look her in the eye.
“I want you to be my first, Liam. I want to sleep with you,” she said.
His hard-on throbbed at the thought of being inside her, taking what she was so generously, passionately, warmly offering.
He loved her. She was so beautiful. Never more so than right at this moment, with her eyes clouded with desire and her face flushed.
“I want to touch you,” she said again. His hand stilled between her legs as she slid her own hand down his body to where his cock was pressed against her thigh. He closed his eyes as she smoothed her hand along his length, her caress firm through his jeans.
“I don’t care about anything else. I just want you. I’ve always wanted you,” she said.
“I’ve always wanted you,” he said as her fingers found the stud on his jeans. She popped it free and pulled his zipper down. He held his breath as her hand worked its way inside his jeans.
She found him, her fingers encircling him, tentative at first but with more confidence as she felt how hard he was, how much he wanted her.
“How can it be so soft and so hard at the same time?” she asked.
“How can you be so hot and so wet?”
She laughed and smoothed her hand up and down his shaft. He began to move his finger again, slicking over and over her. She dropped her head back and lifted her hips.
“Please, Liam. Please,” she begged.
He didn’t know why he wasn’t tearing her jeans off, why he wasn’t inside her already. This was his every fantasy come true—beautiful, sleek, sweet Zoe in his bed, panting for him, her hands on him, pleading with him to take her. How many times had he lain here in the dark of night, his hand wrapped around his own hardness as he imagined her begging like this, imagined the taste of her, the feel of her?
Too many. Almost every night since he’d moved in with the Fords after his mom died. A whole year.
She made a disgruntled noise when he pulled his hand free from her jeans but she smiled when he popped her jeans open and his fingers found the tab on her zipper.
“Yes. Finally!” she said as he tugged it down.
She was wearing plain white panties with some kind of writing on them. It wasn’t until she was lifting her hips to help him slide them off that he realized what they said.
Friday’s Child Is Loving and Giving.
He stilled, the only sound his harsh breathing as he stared at the words, emblazoned across the plumpness of her mons, the darkness of her pubic hair showing faintly through the thin white cotton.
Loving and giving. That was exactly what Zoe was. She was also smart, brave, stubborn. She could sketch and draw like no one he’d ever known, and she never backed off from a challenge. Never wore skirts, either, or makeup. Knew how to change the starter motor in her father’s old Mini. How to throw a cricket ball and kick a football.
She had no idea how gorgeous she was. How many of the guys at school watched her when she walked past in her jeans and T-shirts with no bra. Her green eyes, the perfect oval of her face, the dimple in her chin. In a few years’ time, she was going to understand how much she was worth, how precious she was.
“Liam,” she said, wiggling her hips impatiently. “Hurry up!”
She was going to regret this moment. After all, who was he? Liam Masters, thick as two planks if his teachers were to be believed. Homeless, parentless. Alone, destined for nothing. Staying here with the Fords was the first lucky break he’d had in his life. He didn’t expect it to last, or to change anything, despite how hard Mrs. Ford was campaigning for him to repeat a year so he could get better marks and apply to university.
He knew who he was, what he was. He’d learned it young, at his father’s knee.
There was no way he was good enough for Zoe Ford. Certainly not good enough to be her first.
“What? What’s wrong?” Zoe propped herself up on both elbows to stare at him.
“I can’t do this.”
He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled them up. She resisted, a frown on her face.
“What? What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“We’re not going to do this, Zoe. You need to get dressed and go back to the house.”
She stared at him, her mouth open. He could see the hurt in her eyes as desire was replaced by confusion.
“Did I—Did I do something wrong?” she asked. “Tell me what to do, what to say, and I’ll do it, Liam.”
“You need to get dressed,” he said again.
He tugged the two sides of her jeans together and pulled up the zipper. She pushed his hands away from the stud when he went to close it.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she said.
There were tears in her eyes. She pushed herself backward on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. “Liam, please. Don’t do this.”
“This is a big mistake. I’m doing you a favor,” he said.
He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped himself up. Then he stood at the end of the bed, looking down at her.
“You need to go before someone catches you in here,” he said.
She blinked away tears. “Is that what you’re worried about? Someone finding us? Because I would never tell, Liam. I love you. You know that. I’d never get you in trouble.”
“You’re fifteen, Zoe. Tom trusts me, your parents trust me. They took me in.”
She shook her head. “Bull. This isn’t about my parents or my brother. Tell me what’s really wrong. Is it because I’m a virgin? Or is it my boobs? I know they’re small but I didn’t think you’d mind. Mom said they’ll get bigger as I get older…”
Liam swore under his breath and raked a hand through his hair.
“It’s nothing to do with you, Zoe. It’s me, okay? You don’t want me to be your first.”
“I do. More than anything.”
She stared at him with her big trusting eyes, so earnest and open and honest.
“You have no idea who I really am.” He thought of the girls he’d slept with, the fights he’d had, the things he’d stolen, the lies he’d told. He thought of him and his
