Because this wasn’t real. It was acting.
They were only acting.
Almost But Not Quite
Elle wound her arms around his neck. Not because she planned it, but to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.
Because Mr. Dodd was going to kiss her. Would his lips be hard and cold, or soft and warm? Or would they be hard and hot?
Anticipation danced up her spine and she traced her tongue along her teeth. Waiting…
Waiting.
But nothing.
Elle drew back.
“I—The performers. Do they practice kissing before a performance?” She choked the words out.
With his mouth brushing her jaw, she couldn’t help but feel his hard swallow.
“Not exactly.” Mr. Dodd exhaled a harsh breath but didn’t release her. “Although I encourage my cast to become acquainted beforehand.”
“We are well-acquainted.” Was that his mouth dragging along her clavicle? Elle could hardly hold her head up. “Don’t you think?”
“Against my better judgement.” Definitely his mouth.
His voice vibrated against her skin.
“What else—” Elle’s breath caught on a flutter. “What makes an onstage kiss believable?”
He’d yet to release her and this time whispered his answer by her ear. “The two people must consider the prelude… What has brought them together. What has kept them apart. Why, and what each wants from the other character.”
Why did she shiver when his mouth was so hot?
“What else?” Her voice sounded whisper-thin.
“Both participants must set boundaries.” His palm skimmed just below her breast. “Such as where and how to touch one another.”
“Oh.” Elle closed her eyes. Was he still rehearsing?
“A stage kiss doesn’t need to be real to be convincing.”
Elle contemplated his words, or attempted to, anyhow. It was all but impossible with her body pressed tightly against his—wrapped in his arms for all the world as though this was real.
“What makes it look real, then?” she asked. Could he hear her heart racing, practically bursting from her chest?
“Like this.” He leaned forward but never claimed her mouth.
Elle exhaled a small sigh—one of disappointment—right before he skimmed his thumb along her bottom lip.
And then a thousand flames shot from her head to her toes when he grazed her cheek with his jaw.
“People only see what we want them to see,” he whispered.
“Oh.” She couldn’t even nod, nor could she think of a single word to hold up her end of the conversation.
And she held herself perfectly still. If she moved, he might stop touching her.
