Read Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1) for Free Online Page B

you?”
    “No idea.”
    “Oooh, surprises. Maybe he’ll take you to Shellan’s. I’ve been dying to go there.”
    “Yeah, and the wait list is about three months long.” Pulling on the thong I’d never worn, I felt naked. “I think I’m gonna pass on these. With any luck, he won’t even notice what I’m wearing under my skirt because he’ll be too busy ripping it off.”
    “With his teeth, and trust me, thongs are the better option. Hipster panties are not gonna get you hitched. You don’t bust those out until after marriage. Trust me on this.”
    Leave it to the wedding coordinator to be thinking that far ahead. Fine. The damn thong would stay. “Have I ever mentioned how weird it is that you of all people plan weddings for a living? You’re the most anti-commitment person I’ve ever met.”
    “Hey, that’s not true. I commit for a whole week sometimes.”
    I snorted as I pulled the SJP heels off the rack and slid them on. Admiring my reflection, I said, “That’s a rarity and you know it. What I don’t understand is how you manage to spout all the ooey-gooey love stuff all day long.”
    “My gag reflex is amazing,” Paige replied, waggling her eyebrows before dodging the clutch I threw at her. She laughed. “Well, it’s true.”  
    “When are you just gonna admit you’re madly in love with Dawson and settle down and pop out a soccer team already?”
    Now it was her turn to throw the clutch.  
    “Double Dick? He’s an imbecile. I wouldn’t fuck him if he changed his name to Prince Harry and bought out Tiffany’s.”
    Sure she wouldn’t. Richard Dawson and Paige had been playing the love-hate game for years now, and each was determined that the other was the lowest, most disgusting human they’d ever come across in their entire existence. We humored her because it was entertaining as all hell to watch, but it would surprise no one if we learned they were hate-fucking behind the scenes. We’d already placed bets.
    My cell rang then—Cameron letting me know he was waiting at the front. When I ended the call, I took a deep breath and faced Paige. “So? What do you think?”
    “Entirely fuckable. Go get ’em, tiger.”

    IT HAD BEEN a nice night. Emphasis on nice.  
    Cameron had taken me to The Oyster House overlooking the Pacific, and we’d talked about what we’d been up to since we graduated, about our families, our interests. It was all just so…nice.
    I know, I keep saying that word, but…well, maybe I expected more. Like passion and sparks and heavy sexual tension. Our conversation hadn’t screamed I can’t wait to get you tangled in my sheets , but there was still time.  
    After dinner, we’d walked down to the beach, and he’d grabbed my hand as I held my shoes in my other. The breeze was chillier than I expected, and, gentleman that he was, he gave me his coat. It was warm and smelled like him—fresh, clean…like spring rain. And it was long, considering his height, which I was grateful for. It stopped my teeth from chattering, at least.
    “I’m glad you said yes to tonight,” Cameron said, squeezing my hand. “After my last impression, I wouldn’t have blamed you for turning me down.”
    “It’s not your fault you’re narcoleptic.” I looked up and gave him a half-smile. “Although if you pull that act while we’re on this beach, I’ll be tempted to leave you here.”
    He laughed and nodded. “Fair enough.”  
    When he stopped and pulled on my hand, I backtracked to face him. His hands went to my waist, his gorgeous eyes on mine, and I saw it. The I’m-gonna-kiss-you-now-so-you’d-better-buckle-up look.  
    My heart thumped loudly in my chest, and suddenly, I was aware of every little thing: how cold I was, how much I wished I’d worn pants and a sweater, how much I needed to actually go buy pants and a sweater, the loud roar of the ocean, the other couples that passed us that were out for a romantic stroll, that I wished I’d worn a clear gloss