Fuck, I definitely won’t be able to hold back tonight. Especially not at this rate.
“What show are we seeing?” I whisper, not tearing my eyes away from the stage. I’ve been too focused on ignoring the constant stares to pay attention to why we are here in the first place.
“Romeo and Juliet,” he says not nearly as quietly as me.
I finally break my attention from the stage to look at him. He’s handsome in the dim lighting. Freshly shaved and clean cut, he’s every bit of the Holt Capuleti I’ve known for years. But being with him like this is different. He’s giving me tiny pieces of who he is at his core.
“This ballet has been playing Romeo and Juliet for decades.” His fingers slip between my pressed thighs. “Our parents used to bring Julianna and me when we were kids. Being here reminds me of when life felt perfect.”
“I get what you mean.” I glance around the auditorium with a warm smile. “My parents used to take us to Coney Island every summer.”
“What is your favorite memory? Of Coney Island?”
“The bumper cars,” I’m quick to answer. “Our parents would join London and me, and the competition was fierce but fun. I don’t think I’d ever seen them laugh as hard as they did then. They were happy.”
The memory cracks open a part of me I’ve kept stitched up for years. But why was it so easy for me to share it with Holt?
“But then again, nothing is as it seems,” I admit, softly. Tears threaten to burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let my parent’s deceitful nature steal this from me.
“I agree,” Holt whispers, still leaning in. He squeezes my thigh, his eyes glistening in the diluted light. “This place is my Coney Island.”
It’s difficult to breathe. I can’t look away from Holt, his eyes becoming the windows to his soul. My heart breaks for him, knowing the struggle he’s going through with this lawsuit. He hides it well behind his calm demeanor, always buried in his work, but I can tell being here with me is giving him a bit of peace from the chaos that surrounds him.
I understand it, too.
The secret I’m keeping for Julianna sits between us. I’ve been able to put it out of my mind until he brought her up just now. I inhale a deep breath, hoping Julianna doesn’t take too long to tell her brother the truth. The last thing I want is to get between them.
The lights in the auditorium dim as our server returns with the bottle of champagne. It rests in an all-too-fancy bucket of ice. Holt pours me a glass, and I down half of it before the last audience member takes their seat below and the stage curtains open.
We sit in silence, but all I can think about is Holt’s hand pressed firmly between my thighs. My body is screaming for his touch. I want more. I need more.
His silence is agonizing in the best way.
With my heart racing a million miles a minute, I’m all too aware of Holt’s presence. We’re both pretending to pay attention to the ballet, but all I can think about is him, and I know he feels the same way every time he squeezes my thigh just a little.I’m already soaking wet, begging for the orgasm I’ve been denied for days.
I uncross my legs, and Holt lets out an audible hiss.
Romeo and Juliet continue to dance delicately across the stage, the longing on their faces evident from where we’re sitting. The show is beautiful and moving. There’s something about the forbidden nature of their love, the longing glances. All of it is overwhelming. I tuck my bottom lip under my teeth, realizing I haven’t felt this way ever.
Between the ballet and Holt’s touch, I feel everything now. I feel it all.
I hiccup on a breath as Holt’s hand slides up my thigh. I sigh, my eyes fluttering. Then he leans close to my ear, his hot breath brushing across it as he whispers, “It’s killing me, I mean absolutelykillingme, not being able to kiss you right now, Wallflower.”
My eyes snap open, and I place my hand over his, dragging it up the rest of my thigh, pressing his fingers firmly against my throbbing pussy.
Wide eyed, I turn to face him. “Then, kiss me.”
Hungry and wanting, he doesn’t waste time. He closes the gap between us, pressing his mouth starvingly against mine. It’s strong yet soft, and he groans as his lips mold to mine.
I’m gasping for air, a jolt of electricity jump starting my heart. He reaches across, gripping the side of my face. His fingers get lost in my long, wavy hair, pulling me impossibly closer.
I grip his arm, letting my hand slide over the soft, silken fabric of his black suit. The orchestrated music in the background booms and vibrates through the auditorium. It’s amazing how we’re in a room filled with people but are somehow still in our own bubble.
The hand he has pressed against my pussy moves to my hip,pulling me up out of my seat and onto his lap. My dress parts, bunching at the waist. As soon as I’m sitting in Holt’s lap, I feel his length against my wetness. My barely-there, thin lace thong is soaked as I rock my hips against his stone-hard cock. I know I’m destroying his insanely expensive suit, but Holt must not care because he moves his hand under my dress, around the curve of my ass, to the small of my back, encouraging me to grind against him harder.
His mouth hasn’t broken away from mine when he bites my lip, grunting as I roll my hips. I moan against his mouth, gasping as my clit brushes against his zipper.
“I want you, Holt,” I breathe, tilting my head up to give him access to my neck. I try to quiet my mewls, instead focusing on the heat coursing through my body. It’s as if I’ve been drowning in an endless ocean, finally coming up for air.
