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MALICE (A HOUNDS OF HELL MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE) by Nikki Wild (132)

Eleven

CATHERINE

Liam approached like a predatory cat. He slithered up to Rocket and I with hunger in his eyes. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like being the one he was stalking. Not only did it help with my plan to get close to him, but it was flattering as hell to have one of the biggest rockstars on the planet have you in his sights.

Which is why I knew the way to get close to him was to play hard to get just a little longer. If I gave in too early, he’d figure it out and get bored and leave. Just like he’d gotten bored with the girls on the couch. I needed to keep his attention a little longer than they had. I looked over his shoulder and saw the three of them sitting on the couch alone, their heads buried in their phones.

Once he was within earshot, I made my move.

Rocket was rattling on about their last tour or something, and luckily he said something funny at just the time Liam walked up. I laughed loudly, caressing his arm and leaning into him.

“That’s hilarious, Rocket,” I gushed, turning away away from Liam.

Rocket flashed a toothy grin at me and then looked up at Liam.

“Hey, man,” Rocket nodded.

“What’s up?” Liam said. I felt the heat of his gaze but willed myself not to look up at him.

“Just chillin’ out, mate,” Rocket replied, followed by awkward silence. I looked up and saw Liam’s icy glare pointed in Rocket’s direction. To his credit, Rocket stuck out his chin and didn’t back down in their silent, manly, pissing contest.

I was amused, for sure, but I was determined not to get in the middle of it.

“Why don’t you move the fuck on, Rocket? I want to talk to Catherine.”

“Seems to me you lost your chance to do that earlier,” Rocket replied, gesturing to the three girls on the couch.

“Budge up, you twat!”

“No, Liam, we’re chattin’,” Rocket said, his voice getting firmer.

“She doesn’t want to talk to your beastly ass, are you barmy?” Liam said, leaning down and getting in Rocket’s face. “She’s here to do a story about me. Not your boring bullshit!”

“Actually, guys, I’m going to bed,” I said, quickly standing up between them. The last thing I needed was a fucking fight over me. Even if it was Liam and Rocket. Even if I was flattered, I didn’t want any part of that. I’d wanted to make him a little jealous, but not violently so.

I walked away, leaving them alone to sort it out between themselves.

A few minutes later, I found Rhone standing alone in the kitchen.

“Where’s Ian?” I asked.

“He went back to our room. He’s not much of a partier these days,” she replied.

“He’s younger than Liam right?”

“Yes, by a few years.”

“Seems like Liam got the younger spirit, I guess, because he seems to be all about the party.”

“You could say that,” she agreed.

“How do you do it?” I asked. “The partying every night, the constant traveling…”

“It is exhausting, but after a while you get used to it,” she shrugged.

“You and Ian seem like you have a great relationship,” I suggested.

“We do. It’d be a lot better, if it weren’t for Liam…” she hesitated before finishing her sentence.

“What do you mean?” I prodded.

“Well, Liam and Ian used to be really close. But I think the constant fighting now really gets to Ian. He keeps trying, but when you feel like you’re the only one trying in a relationship, it gets a little old.”

“So why does he keep doing it?”

“I don’t know really. I think he sees something in Liam that nobody else does. They went through hell when their little brother died. Their dad left, and thank god he did, because he was an abusive prick that had no business being a father. And afterwards, after Lennon died, their mom became a shell of who she once was. They were pretty much left to fend for themselves, and all they had was each other. Maybe Ian doesn’t want to let go of Liam because he’s the only family he has.”

“That makes sense,” I replied.

“I’m off to join my husband, Catherine. Good luck with your story. It’s not going to be easy to get Liam to open up.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” I said, smiling at her. She was a really nice woman, and I was glad she was here. “I’d love to have some time to talk to you and Ian sometime, too, for the story.”

“Sure, any time. See you tomorrow,” she said, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, as I was leaving the bathroom I ran into Liam again, Rhone’s words still lingering in my head.

“Hello, luv,” he slurred, leaning into me. We were the only two in the hallway, and I leaned away from him, the wall behind my back. “I thought you left.”

“No, not yet. I was just about to, though.”

“What a pity, darling. Why don’t you stay? Or, better yet, why don’t you come to my room with me?” His blue eyes peering into mine as he reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart skipped as his fingers brushed my cheek. He was a hot mess, sure, and he was so drunk he was swaying a little, but that did nothing to take away from the pure fucking masculinity pouring off of him. He towered over me, his gaze sliding across my face before it focused squarely on my lips and I knew exactly what he was thinking. Because I was thinking the same thing.

I wanted him. I’d admitted it to myself hours ago, hell, I’d known it since I first laid eyes on him. I didn’t answer him, though. Fuck yes, I wanted to go to his room. I wanted to lick every fucking inch of him, I wanted to see that cock again, I wanted to feel him inside of me.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I whispered, licking my lips.

I don’t think he heard me, but if he did, he didn’t care. Instead, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against mine. I gasped, his lips hot and hungry as they came down on mine.

He tasted like whiskey. He tasted like sex. He tasted like temptation.

I kissed him back, and before I knew it we were tangled together in a passionate embrace, the world outside of the hallway melting away. His hands were everywhere all at once, his fingers sliding over my nipples, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me closer. That cock that I had been thinking about seconds ago was now extremely hard and pressed against me in the most deliciously painful way.

He pulled away, his lips trailing down my neck, licking, gently nibbling, his breath hot on my skin. I threw my head back, moaning into the pleasure of his touch, his tongue darting out, scraping against my skin with electric shocks.

“I knew I’d have you writhing at my touch before the night was over,” he growled.

I froze.

Wait. This wasn’t the plan.

I was supposed to be playing hard to get. I was supposed to be the one in charge. I wasn’t supposed to play into his arrogance.

And now what was I doing? Practically shaggin’ the bastard in the hallway like an easy hussy!

I pushed him off of me and walked away without a word. I had no explanation for him, so I didn’t even try. I just marched out of the suite and ran to my own room as fast as I could, my heart pumping a million miles an hour and my panties so soaked that I had to remove them as soon as I entered the room.

Throwing the bolt on the door, I flung myself on the bed, a crumpled mess of unfulfilled yearning.