The Coldest Summer✓

Twenty-three

Sam and Malik indulge in a small talk. Being alone with Liam in the backseat is nothing but a recipe for catastrophe. I'm almost yielding to his little enticing plan of playing with my thighs, caressing my skin gently.

I hold my breath, feeling his every move as he wanders his hand over my skin. From my knees he heads up, and when he reaches the summit of my thighs I whine a thin moan and clear my throat at the same time.

"Are you okay, Ms. Jones?" Liam asks.

The audacity he has!

Sam cocks her head back at us but she doesn't seem to see a thing. I'm grateful it's dark in here, or else I wouldn't know where to hide my face.

"Um, yeah." I sit straight, catching my breath while holding Liam's hand tightly so it doesn't go further into my reserves.

"Are you sure, Professor? Because you sound like you've been stung by a bee," Malik enthuses and laughter fills the car.

"Very funny, Malik," I remark dryly.

Liam grins and I throw him a hissing glare. It's all his fault!

"Are you enjoying the sight of Miami, Ms. Jones?" Liam asks out of nowhere, making it sound like a normal conversation.

God, help me.

"Yes, so far so good," I hardly answer, my voice as distracted as my body and mind.

This scheming Englishman! And here I thought he's all decent and grown up. Well, I'm not complaining, am I? I think I do enjoy his ploys.

"Really?" Liam pulls my hand aside and on he proceeds playing with my skin, just an innocent lingering around my inner thighs.

I thaw at his touch, and the devil in me keeps spiraling her sexy belly dance, dressed in a red Arabian costume with a gold chain on her waist.

"Yes, it's not much different from L.A," I reply in a low voice-possibly hoarsely?

I can't even tell.

My breath quickens, feeling him nearing my panties. Holy no! I bind my legs briskly, stopping him, yet wanting him at the same time.

I'd really love to let him be as it already takes me heights, but I'm afraid they may call 911 thinking that I got bitten by a black mamba.

"Stop it," I mouth, staring at him.

"No," Liam returns similarly, and we both laugh in the same style.

We drop by the bistro for dinner. Great, I'm famished. I always find it difficult eating in motion so I might as well have my fill now.

The tempting aroma makes my mouth watery as we grab the menu. The place is warm and chic-beach style-packed with both the locals and foreigners.

"This looks yummy," Sam mutters greedily, eyeing the pictured menu. "I'll have the dressed crab," she adds, and I don't really understand why people eat something that needs a hammer to break down.

I'm not a seafood enthusiast, I guess.

"I'll have chips and grilled tuna," I say in a similar manner, thanking heavens my tummy is behaving splendidly.

"I'll have the same," Liam says quite casually.

Our eyes meet. His smile is indeed provocative, but I choose to glance away.

Malik prefers meat over fish, so he orders his fair share of a grilled steak with asparagus.

"Oh, with some chips and salad, please." He grins innocently. I huff at him. "Don't judge me, Professor! I'm very hungry," he snaps.