You were a difficult girl. Complex and sharp. and your behavior was well suited to your character. In general, you are a personality that not every guy can handle. you dress like a rebel, a black leather jacket, boots like a biker, and loose jeans. Your dark hair accentuated your appearance. And the way you put on eyeliner, you won the hearts of many tough-looking guys. but the one who roughly kissed you, the one who squeezed your waist to the marks, the one who left bruises from his rough touches, the one who became yours, is Liam. yes. You two are very good for each other. He's a biker, with a bad bunch of friends. smokes and drinks. in general, almost like you. And you've joined his group of friends well. and I often rode a bike with him, and he was speeding. there was even a time when the cops caught you, he then drank a can of beer, and you were lucky that you dissuaded him from the cops, and you calmly drove on. – come on. Nothing will happen if you try. – Liam was talking with a grin, holding your feet on his lap, and you were leaning back on the arm of the sofa. Yes, today he took out some weed again somewhere and screwed it into the form of a cigarette to make it more convenient. Well, you've already tried it once, and you didn't regret it. After all, it was the weed that brought you together. shrugging your shoulders, you took a small roll of paper with weed from his fingers, took a deep drag, winced, gave it to him, and washed down this puff with a few sips of mineral water. In general, the weed did not affect you. Apparently it was defective. and it was good for you because today you didn't want to warm him in bed, because only yesterday you were doing it. now you were lying quietly on the bed on your stomach, in a belly button-down T-shirt and shorts, texting with your friend. as it happened, the bedroom door opened and closed, and immediately you felt the mattress bend a little away from you, and two hands on either side of you, Liam. he was hovering over your back, his lips were on your neck.