She felt tears spark in her eyes. Liam placed an awkward hand on hers.
“Maybe you should just let her get on with it?” he suggested, his voice soft. “You’re letting it upset you way more than it should. She seems really happy.”
Mimi pulled away savagely so that beer foamed over the lip of her bottle and dripped on the plush carpet.
“If you aren’t with me on this, Liam, you can get out now. I’m giving you this chance. I can’t stand halfhearted men.”
“I’m not halfhearted. I just…Look, I care about you. I care about Anna too. But I think you’re getting obsessed. I wish you’d calm down a bit. That’s all.”
Mimi shut her eyes for a moment, then she opened them and smiled weakly at Liam.
“Do you really? Care about me? That’s so sweet.”
“I’m a sweet guy.”
“Perhaps you could demonstrate that proposition for me.”
Liam put down his bottle and took Mimi’s from her hand before taking her by the arm and leading her over to the bed.
“Sit down then,” he whispered, exerting a tiny amount of pressure on her shoulder until they were side by side on the edge of the bed, looking at each other with a wide-eyed mix of fear and excitement and strange sadness.
Liam picked up a limp, pearly-nailed hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it briefly before ducking down to Mimi’s already pouted mouth.
“I’ve always wanted to kiss you,” he asserted, as their cheeks touched. “I’ve always had a theory about you.”
“A theory? You?”
“Mock as much as you like. I think that the harder a woman’s veneer, the more sensual she is inside. Kind of like a peach in reverse—hard shell, soft stone. I want to know if that’s true. I think it’s true of you.”
“Oh, give over. That almost sounded like you’d thought about it.” Mimi tried to sound scornful but there was a catch in her voice and she gave her lips up to Liam’s approach, wrapping possessive arms around his neck while the kiss lengthened and deepened.
“I’ve always had a theory about you,” she said huskily, breaking off for
a moment to catch a breath.
“Oh yeah? What’s that then?”
“That you’d be a good kisser. I was right.”
Liam snuffled a laugh into her hair, then moved to the next stage of proving Mimi’s point, introducing the tip of his tongue to her deep, warm mouth and falling sideways with her into the puffy, soft embrace of the bedspread.
Liam’s angularity and Mimi’s voluptuous curves made for an unusually complementary combination and before too long they were grabbing, thrashing, rubbing, bucking against one another. Hands were in hair and on chests and backs and around necks and then moving lower, down over the expensive wedding-guest outfits, hoping to sear their way beneath, to the skin.
Mimi’s long string of pearls clashed against Liam’s teeth, while his cuff links snagged in her hair.
“You’ve laddered my stocking,” Mimi accused.
“Shut up, I’m trying to snog you.”
The writhing developed into an enjoyable tussle, Liam trying to overpower Mimi while she landed painful little jabs between his ribs or against his shins, until finally she had him where she wanted him. Flat on his back, staring up into her lascivious predatory grin.
“Oh, you’re pretty,” she said, unbuckling his belt as she hovered above him, her pearls dangling over his eager face. “So very pretty. I want to eat you up.”
She loosened his tie and pulled out the knot, enjoying the swish of the silk as it raced past his collar, to be discarded at the bedside. He made a tiny choking sound, his gaze darting from side to side, watching her unbutton him, slowly.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed.
“Don’t talk. Just lie back and let it happen. I want to watch your face.”