Ann shoved Liam into the small upstairs room and slammed the door. The lock clicked. Sharp. Final. Liam stumbled, catching himself against the wall. One second he was on the couch downstairs, the next she had his wrist in a death grip, dragging him up the stairs like she could not wait another heartbeat.
She turned. Her eyes were wild. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips. "Don't worry," she said, voice low. "Nobody's coming up here."
Liam rolled his eyes. He already knew. His blood was pumping hard, thick with want. He could feel it in his chest, his gut, lower.
Ann stepped closer. Her fingers found the top button of her shirt. Pop. One. Then the next. Pop. Each sound was loud in the quiet room. Her eyes never left his. She moved slow, like she knew he was watching every inch of skin appear.
