My rule about no feelings rings loudly in my head, but I push it away. As long as we haven’t said those three words, haven’t felt those big emotions, it’s still a gray area.
Tilting my mask up, I pull her face to mine. Her lips are soft as I devour them, licking and sucking until she opens for me and our tongues meet. Euphoria crashes into me as her hand strokes my beard and she becomes pliant against me.
Nothing has ever felt more right than kissing this woman, and every reason for stopping this flies out of my head.
Her hips rock against me as we continue exploring each other’s mouths. I’ve kissed every inch of her body but her mouth so I take my time claiming her with my touch.
“I need you,” she moans as I kiss down her neck. I can feel the desperation in her voice.
“You deserve more than to have your first time in theprivate room of a sex club,” I growl into her ear, trying to mask my voice. “But I’ll take care of you for now.”
I slip my hand into her panties and groan at how wet she is for me. Circling her clit with my middle finger, she arches into me, pulling me close as she moans against my ear.
“Yes, right there. Please.”
I want to slam into her, or at the very least, slide my fingers in and fuck her hard, but I keep my hand in place, repeating the same motion against her clit until she’s bucking against me and crying out.
This is all I can give her right now. Stolen moments. Hiding her away when she deserves someone who is proud to be seen with her. A plan begins to form in my head, and I focus on that, determined to figure out a way around the few remaining obstacles keeping us apart.
CHAPTER 27
EMMA
It’s been a week since I first felt his lips on mine and I can’t stop thinking about them, feeling ghosts of them on my skin every night as I drift off to sleep.
Rehearsals have been going well. Using extra clothing as a barrier seems to help with the touching problem. I was nervous about sharing my issue with Professor A-hole, worried he would somehow use it against me, but he’s been very patient and understanding with me this past week. I’m not sure how to feel about it. His shift in demeanor is throwing me. Where he once was cold and distant, throwing up walls and challenging every word out of my mouth, he’s now become very encouraging, showering me with praise during rehearsal.
The teacher’s pet in me is desperate to prove myself to him. I earned this role, and I want him to believe it.
Jeremy has been very understanding as well, and I’m thankful for that. It can’t be easy to work with an actor who recoils every time you touch them. I’d worry for his ego, but he seems to take it in stride. Nevertheless, I find myself complimenting him and his acting whenever I can. I don’t want him to think my issue is any reflection on him.
Just as we’re wrapping up rehearsal, Jeremy pulls me aside in the wing. “I was thinking, maybe you and I should spend some time together outside of the theatre.”
“Like a date?” I ask nervously.
“Kinda?” He gauges my reaction. When I don’t jump at his words, he continues. “It doesn’t have to be a date, but we can treat it like one if that helps.”
“What do you mean?” I cross my arms over my chest as my heart rate picks up.
“I’m fucking this up, I’m sorry.” He rubs his forehead. “I just meant that maybe if you got more comfortable being around me outside of the show, you wouldn’t freak out when I try to hold your hand on stage. It was one thing when we did a scene in class, but a lot more people will see this. People are paying money to watch us fall in love on stage, and I want it to be believable.”
“Oh.” My nerves relax.
“If you wanted it to be a date, I’m cool with that too. You’re hot, and I would definitely enjoy spending more time with you. But at the very least, if we hung out more, maybe you would be more at ease with me on stage.”
I want to tell him how this has never worked for me in the past. So many guys in high school tried exactly what he was suggesting, but the difference was they all wanted to get in my pants, and I think my body knew that. I’m not sure what Jeremy’s true motive is, but as long as I’m suspicious, I’ll never fully trust him and this issue will persist.
“Okay, I guess we could try,” I offer.
He smiles at me, pushing his hair out of his face. “Great! It’s a date.”
“What’s a date?” a deep voice asks from behind me.
Professor Ali stands there, hands on his hips, a scowl on his face.
I look between the two men, sweetly smiling at Jeremy, and then turning to match my professors' scowl. “Not a date,” Iassure Jeremy gently, then turn to the professor and use a more assertive tone. “We’re just hanging out.”
“Outside of here?” Professor Ali clarifies, waving a hand around to indicate the stage.
