Fragility lurks beneath her tipsy humour. This woman is broken somehow. But she’s far from defeated.
Holly shifts in her seat, swivelling towards me. ‘Did you ever do something so fucking stupid, so careless, that the repercussions may actually haunt you forever?’
‘Not yet.’ I don’t voice that I might be about to.
And I’m not referring to the Hallmark movie.
I’m referring to this. Whatever ‘this’ is between us. I don’t sleep around. Especially not with ordinary women who could potentially sell their sordid story to the media.
Though there is nothing ordinary about Holly.
The chemistry is palpable. It sizzles through the air in an invisible circuit. She feels it; I know she does. Desire plumes between us.
Tonight, for one night only, I’m going to do something unpredictable. Something reckless. Something physical to burn off this energy thrumming between us. If she’ll let me, that is.
My hand tingles to touch her. Before I can stop myself, my palms are cupping her face, tilting it upward, forcing her to look at me.
To see me.
To see the want in my eyes.
The need.
The hunger.
To show her that she’s not the only one with fantasies.
The urge to unleash myself on her, right here, right now, overwhelms me.
I should leave.
She could kiss and tell to every single newspaper or gossip blog in the world. Yet somehow, I know she won’t. She’ll keep my secrets. Tuck them away with her own.
Without moving a millimetre, she drinks me in like I’m some sort of god.
If only she knew the truth.
I’m more like the devil with these sinful thoughts spiralling through my brain.
‘I know this is pretty presumptuous of me, given that I know nothing about you, Holly, but can I kiss you?’ My dick is straining so ardently against my jeans they’re in danger of splitting.
‘You want me to be your revenge fuck?’ The breath rushes from her chest straight into my mouth and I savour every molecule. ‘Are you hoping I’m going to sell my story to the papers? That Celeste will see you’re not sitting around moping?’ Those heaven-sent lips lift into a challenging smirk.
‘Sweetheart, I already know you’re not going to sell anything to the papers. You told me you’re in hiding.’
‘True.’ She shrugs.
I inch forwards, closing the distance between us. ‘I’m going to ask you one more time, Holly. Can I kiss you?’
The briefest nod of her head provides the permission I’ve been seeking.
Tilting her chin upwards, I cup her face and bring my mouth to meet hers. A tingling sensation soars from her soft, sweet lips and goes straight under my skin. She tastes of Sancerre and sin. And tonight, that’s exactly what I need.
My hand falls to her shoulder, trailing across her clavicle, chasing goosebumps. This force between us is animalistic.
I might be an actor, but I’ve never acted like this in my life. It’s irrational. It’s instinctive. I want her.
And I always get what I want.
