He can’t stop staring down at her boots. At her legs in those boots, rather. Those knee-high black boots with heels that bringher lips four inches closer to his when they’re standing up. And yet still several inches away.
“Those fucking boots,” he mutters. “They can’t be comfortable to walk in.”
“They’re probably not comfortable to fuck in either, but they look so good on me it’s worth it.”
“Fucking hell, Curly. Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing you, Dummy.”
“Yeah?” He takes a seat on the lounge chair again, grabs her by the waist, and pulls her down to sit on his lap. Surprisingly, she doesn’t mind it. Surprisingly, she enjoys that move a lot. “You want to keep them on while you fuck? Or do you want me to slowly unzip them, drop them on the floor, and kiss my way up your smooth bare leg to your inner thigh and farther…”
“I think the night is young so we can do both, and I think you meanfurther.”
“I think you want to kiss me.”
“I think for once you’re right.”
And just as she wraps her arms around his neck and leans in, their Cinematography professor calls out to them to take a picture with him and a few other students.
They laugh, because the nightisyoung and so are they and there is time for them to kiss and fuck and why wouldn’t they assume that that is where the night is taking them?
After posing for pictures, when everyone else disperses, she decides to tell him then and there about the Broadway musical. That she is flying to New York tomorrow afternoon for an important callback and that she is thinking about staying there, whether she gets the part or not. His response is perfect. He congratulates her, knowing how happy this must make her. And then he makes fun of her for even considering a career in theatre instead of film. And then he tells her he would miss her if she left. He asks her if there’s anything that would change her mindabout dropping out of the degree program because he thinks she’s really talented.
She says, “Why don’t we get another drink and discuss this further?”
He says, “We could get another drink and discuss thisfartheraway from here. Somewhere more private…upstairs in one of the hotel rooms…”
“Yes. We could.”
Ignoring their classmates, he takes her hand and they walk along the side of the pool, toward the lobby. As they pass beneath an archway, he stops and glances up at the mistletoe hanging overhead. She never would have guessed that he, of all people, would recognize such silly holiday traditions as kissing under the mistletoe. But her knees practically give out when he says, “C’mere.”
He pulls her in close. She grips his shirt with both hands, feeling his abs beneath the material. She very much wants to see those abs. He hooks an index finger under her chin, tilting it upward as he slowly, so slowly, lowers his mouth to hers. He kisses her softly at first. She nibbles on his lower lip, very sensually. Kisses his earlobe. She can’t hear him groan so much as she can feel it rumbling in his throat. Her lips part for him, and he accepts the invitation to kiss her deeply. His beautiful hands press into her lower back, pressing her into him, so she can feel how much he wants her. She can feel it against her stomach. He tells her, with his lips and his tongue and his fingers and his hard length, that he wants her. Now.Needsher, even. It doesn’t even scare her to be needed like that, not in this moment anyway.
She gasps when he suddenly squeezes her hips. How is it possible that such a simple move would have such a profound effect on her entire body? How has no one ever done that to her before? If he can make her feel this good when they’re both fullydressed, surrounded by people, what—dear God,what—will he be capable of when they’re alone together?
The kiss grows more urgent.
They are attracting the attention of their peers.
There is hooting.
There is hollering.
Someone jokingly suggests they get a room.
Her rival kisses her softly again, kisses her cheek, kisses her forehead, lowers his forehead to rest against hers. He massages her hips, ever so gently, very subtly, and she feels the first of what she thinks will be many waves of pleasure roll through her. Just that. Just from the tiny movement of his thumbs and fingers on her hips, over her skirt.
“Shall we?” he whispers.
“Yes. We shall.”
She goes with him to the front desk. The only room available for the night is the penthouse. He slides his very heavy credit card across the counter and says he’ll take it, asking for two key cards. She says she’s going to use the ladies’ room and then she will meet him up there. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her again, making her promise not to keep him waiting too long.
She promises she won’t.
She means it when she says it.
And well…something unexpected happens.
