Taking a deep breath, I give a little shake to dispel the weird feelings and mentally prepare myself to go again. I can do this, it’s not like I’ll be kissing Roman all morning or anything.
I have been kissing him all freaking morning. I swear to God this is some kind of karmic punishment for sins I was unaware I had committed.
My lips are bordering on swollen, and a bunch of unhelpful thoughts have been swimming around in my head for the last few hours.
You’d think a kiss shot would be a quick few takes and then done, but no. As luck would have it, Arnold is a bit of a perfectionist. A perfectionist who requires the same shot from multiple angles. A perfectionist who is making my life hell right now.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ROMAN
Kissing Clover feels... different. I’ve done plenty of kissing scenes throughout my career, and even a handful of sex scenes, but this is a first for me.
It’s a strange thing to be in such an emotionally and physically charged space all morning. I have to be mentally in the space of wanting to kiss someone so badly that I’ll die if I don’t. I need her like I need air, it’s all-consuming and vital to my survival. And filming this with Clover is fucking with my head. It’s undeniable that she’s beautiful, but the way she feels when she’s pressed up against me is addictive.
Throughout the morning I’ve had to keep reminding myself that it’s our characters who are kissing, not us. I’ve never had to make that distinction for myself before. I don’t know why I’m having to now, and it’s bothering me.
I also don’t know why Arnold’s been getting fifty thousand fucking takes of the same kiss. It’s like he’s on a mission to get it from every angle on God’s green earth.
“One more time from the top, three... two... one... action!”
We run through our lines, and even though we’ve beendoing this all morning, a thrill runs through me knowing that I’m about to kiss her again.
This time when the moment comes, instead of putting my hand behind her head, I move it so that it cups along her cheek and jawline. I brush my thumb gently along the soft skin of her cheek before I pull her in for our kiss.
Our lips meet, and my body comes alive. My other hand goes to mirror the first along the side of her face, and I deepen the kiss. More so than with any of the other takes we’ve done. Her body melts into mine, and I move my hand to her waist, pressing us even closer together. For someone who annoys me so badly, she feels fantastic against me. She responds to my touch, and I swear she presses her breasts into me. Taking my time with this kiss, I suck her bottom lip, and a little noise of contentment leaves her.
“Cut! Jesus, you two, I already said cut!” Arnold shouts. Clover pulls back like she’s touched a hot stove. There’s a bit of a wild look in her eyes right now, and I like it. Her cheeks pinken, and she looks flustered as hell.
“You good there, Sparky?”
“I’m fine.”
I smirk over the fact that she didn’t even give me any backtalk about the nickname.
“Let’s wrap for a lunch break,” Arnold says as the crew disperses, all eagerly making their way to the craft services table for food. Instead of heading in that direction, Clover makes her way toward the warehouse exit.
She’s done this for the past few weeks of filming, always sneaking off during lunch. I’m not sure where she goes or what she does, but today seems as good a day as any to find out. Moving quickly, I step around her at the last second to push open the door to the back garden.
“What are you doing?” she grumbles.
“Following you. What are you doing?”
She rolls her eyes. “Trying to get away from you, thanks.”
Realizing I may have pushed too far, I decide to lay off. For now. “Need a little time to cool down after all that?” I tease.
To my shock, she doesn’t answer right away. Those few seconds of pause tell me everything I need to know.She does need to cool down after all that kissing.Interesting. A small part of me feels relieved that I’m not the only one who felt that during the shoot.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t have to, your body did all the talking for you.”
“Oh my God, for the love of everything, please stuff it, Roman.”
I raise my eyebrows at her word choice. She takes a second, but when she clues in, she goes bright red.
“Jesus Christ.”
