“I know. I know, baby.” His breathing is as messy as mine, his eyes hooded with need. “You taste like a dream.”
I’d say the same thing, only there’s no denying the very real heat of his body as I run my hands down his chest. He’s all hard muscle and sculptured lines, no doubt from having to bare so much of himself on a cinema screen, and instead of worrying about my own imperfections, I feel a flare of pride. Ellis has achieved so much, is an icon for so many, and right now he’s here, his heart thudding undermyhands.
“What are you smiling about?” he whispers, brushing a thumb over the curve of my lips.
“Just that all those bitches who called me Dirty Percy would probably have a meltdown if they could see me now.”
“Dirty Percy?” His mouth puckers like he’s tasted something bad. “What the hell?”
“Just mean girl stuff,” I reassure him. “And I couldn’t care less, because I’m the one with my mitts all over you.” There’s still a spark of anger in his eyes, but it goes hazy as I reach under his shirt and brush my fingers over his rippling stomach. “You okay with me touching you like this, Mr. Castle?”
“Fuck yes,” he breathes, titling his hips up so I can see the hard ridge of his erection pressing against his jeans. “Touch me anywhere you want. It’s all Percy territory, anyway.”
I laugh, but he lunges forward and swallows the sound with his mouth. His kiss is now a ravenous assault, and I’m acutely aware of the sweet scent of my slick. He must smell it, too, because his fingers slide to my thighs, his thumbs brushing back and forth only inches from my heat. I moan as he rocks me forward, his cock so close to where I want it to be, I can’t resist reaching out and palming its shape through the taut denim…
A horn sounds somewhere in the distance and I snatch my hand back with a breathless laugh. “This might be my territory,” I murmur, “but the Sheriff can still charge us with public indecency if we go much further.”
“Crap.” He blinks, like he’s just remembering that we’re parked at the side of the road, then tilts his head back with a groan. It elongates his throat, and a primal part of me wants to lick the thick muscles until I can feel his pulse against my tongue. Bite him, even, until I can taste his skin and feel his faint stubble against my lips. In fact, I want to consume Ellis in a way that leaves me shaky with need. But then he peeks at me through his dark lashes, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I guess Ot’s right when he says I only have one gear.”
“Well, I’m a fan ofthisgear.” In fact, if this is his version of parking, I want a whole lot more of it. “But maybe not with that family picnicking twenty feet away.”
“Yeah, that’s not ideal.” He gives a shaky laugh as he drags his hand through his messy hair and squeezes his nape. “Fuck. I really want to keep kissing you, though.”
I lick my lips, feeling my heart skip at the growly need in his voice. Somehow, Ellis Castle is as hungry for me as I am for him. “Same, but… nothing has to change except for the location, right?”
“You mean…?”
“After we visit your friend – and drop Cooper off somewhere – maybe we could go parking…?”
He perks up, his hands squeezing my hips. “Parking? Like in those old horror movies where the couple goes to Lovers’ Lane?”
“Yeah, but without the screaming and blood splatter,” I laugh, leaning forward to kiss the edge of his mouth. He shivers under me, and the power I have over him with such a simple touch makes my head spin. “You know, there’s a nice view from the Blue Hill Bridge.”
“There is?” I nod and he grins. “Then let’s ditch Cooper and go right now.”
“That’s not very nice,” I chide him, even as I bask in his playful smile. “And I don’t think Kaysie would appreciate us stranding him out here. She seems quite protective of your bodyguard.”
“Really?” He looks intrigued for a moment, but then grabs my hips and plops me next to him on the seat. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
I nod. “We don’t want to keep your friend waiting any more than we already have.”
While I’m commending myself on putting practicalities ahead of the hunger that’s still pulsing in my blood, Ellis scrapes a thumb over his jaw. “Um. About that… In case you haven’t worked it out already, sometimes I can go a little over the top.”
I snort, since, yes, there isn’t much about Ellis that is underdone. “I think I can handle anything you want to show me, Ellis.”
He hums, but there’s still a touch of hesitation in his eyes as he says, “Okay. But if you don’t like it, just know that it came from a good place.”
I press a hand to his chest, because didn’t he just give me sovereign rights over the territory of Ellis Castle? “I’m pretty sure this is one of the best places I’ll ever visit.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN – ELLIS
People often assume celebrities have everything they want - and it’s true, there's not much I can’t get my hands on if I try hard enough - but that doesn’t mean I always get what Ineed. Case in point: I am going to expire if I don’t get a whole lot more of Lily Percy. On my tongue, under my hands, and hopefully in the vicinity of my knot, because there's no way I can get a taste of paradise and not want to relocate there forever.
I wasn't kidding when I said my body was now Percy territory. As long as she’s happy to cohabit with Tristan - and I think the last few days have been torturous proof of that - then she can stake her claim wherever she wants. She’s already under my skin, and a couple more make-out sessions like the one we just had, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to have burrowed all the way to my heart.
Not that she’s going to have to dig very hard. One smile in my direction, and I’m mushier than a mound of melted marshmallows.
Zander, on the other hand, is more of the Marlboro Man type.Weathered, wiry, and taciturn with a capital T, my old riding teacher is not a fan of emotional outbursts. After years of his sideways glances, I’ve had to train myself to keep my exuberance in check. Normally, I can keep it to about a four on the Golden Retriever Scale, but with Lily’s perfume mingling with the comforting scent of horseflesh in my nose, I’m hovering closer to a seven. Maybe even inching towards an eight.
