“Well, just to be clear, my lips are sealed, but my facial expressions are under no such obligation.” He arches his eyebrows when he finally meets my gaze. “And actually, come to think of it, there are a couple of things I need answering…”
His right leg comes up under his left as he adjusts himself on the couch to directly face me. He sounds like a detective about to launch an interrogation, sending my heart rate soaring for all the wrong reasons.
“Shoot,” I say, fighting back the lump in my throat.
He’s already in the room. He’s already signed the contract.
“The name I need to save you in my phone under. What should I use? Houdini? Casper? Big Reveal?” His gaze drifts to my crotch as a smirk rises on his face.
“Alex is fine.” I shake my head at the question’s randomness.
“I can’t save your actual name in my phone, according to the MNDA I just signed.”
Ah, right.
I turn my head away, toward the TV. Avril Lavigne’sSk8erBoivideo is playing out. A smile forms on my face as I remember how I used to think she was singing the song about me.
“Skater Boy,” I say, turning back to Christopher.
“Okay…?” A look of bewilderment appears on his face as he pulls his phone and room key out of his pocket. He places the room key next to the remote, and holds the phone in his hand. There’s an awkward silence, as if he’s waiting for me to explain why.
“I used to use Avril Lavigne as my pseudonym when checking into hotels because I loved that song,” I say, nodding to the TV. “Then someone worked it out. I never thought someone would think I’d actually use another artist’s name. Now I’m stuck with whatever name Paul or Rob sign me in under.”
“Ah okay.” He nods his head as he types the name into his phone, before returning it to his pocket. “And if someone asks me how we know each other?”
“We can figure that out later,” I say, sliding across the couch.
I want—need—to be closer to him, but his hand stops me from getting too close.
“And am I the only one signing an MNDA about interactions?” The intensity of his stare makes me move back slightly.
“Yes,” I say, catching the sharpness in my voice.
The Rita issue has been following me all day. Connie says she’s handling it, but why does everyone think I’m such a love rat?
“Yes, you are the only one,” I say softly, my hand resting on the pillow.
He slips his hand over mine and cups the bottom of my chin with the other. “And are you saying that you want me to be the man in this relationship?”
I want him to be whatever he wants to be.
I want him to throw me all around this room and dominate me.
I want him to own me.
But I don’t want to scare him off. So instead, I lean in and kiss him.
His lips are soft, and with each subsequent kiss I lean in more. His tongue parts my lips and slides into my mouth, intertwining with mine.
He leans back into the couch, and I stretch my left leg over him. Straddling him. Kissing him more passionately, more deeply, with every breath.
I lose myself in the throes of passion as he flips me onto my back, pushes me down onto the couch and gets on top of me. He takes control, pinning my hands against the arm of the couch as his mouth goes to work on my neck. Biting it slightly. I wriggle away.
“Too much?” His hazel eyes hover just above mine.
I want him to eat me whole, but I also need to ensure that there are no visible marks that show.
“No…just…” I stutter, trying to catch a breath. “Just not where they can see.”
