Her skin felt like silk. I let my fingers roam before I cupped one of her deliciously generous tits. She let out a soft moan against my lips, and it went straight to my head. And… other places.
Fuck. Game Over. Sex in a Comic-Con dressing room. That would be a first.
I slid her shirt up slowly, teasingly, kissing her harder as her hands tangled in my hair. She shifted closer, her legs wrapping tighter around me. And then, right when I thoughtI might completely lose myself in her, reality was the one to slap me in the face.
An abrupt knock on the door was followed by Vanessa’s impatient voice.
“There was an accident on the 495. We need to leave now if we’re going to make it to the meeting.”
Our kiss broke and I rested my head on her shoulder, catching my breath, letting her scent calm me even as my pulse raced.
“I’ll be right there!” I called out instead of using all the profanities that were rolling in my mind. I lifted my head and met Jules’ flushed cheeks and eyes that shyly asked for more. “I’m sorry…” I scanned her expression, searching for something to give me a clue on how the hell I was supposed to react to what happened.
“Tick tock, Mr. Jones!” Vanessa’s voice came again. Sharp and smug as ever. I held my breath, caught between waiting for Jules to say something and firing my manager straight away.
But then… she laughed.
Holy shit, I wanted to take a picture. Frame it because it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t even know why she was laughing, but I found myself laughing too. And that warm feeling in my heart was right back.
“I really have to go. If it were any other meeting. I’d blow it off, but…” I ran a hand through my hair, trying not to let it drift back to her body.
“It’s okay, Mr. Jones.” She said, still teasing when saying my name. But her voice was a little shaky, as if she was trying to pull herself together as much as I was.
“Don’t.” I reached out and gently pressed a finger to her lips. “Call me Chris.” My finger didn’t move. Neither did my eyes that were locked in, staring at her mouth.
She moved her head in agreement.
“Come on…” I whispered. “Say it. Chris.”
She took a deep breath and whispered it like she knew exactly what it would do to me.
“Chris…”
My fingers moved slowly from her lips to her neck, then to her collarbone.
“Better,” I muttered.
I wanted to keep going, but before I got completely sucked in, I forced myself to take a hesitant step back. She slid off the table, but our bodies were still too close. Way too close for comfort and for my self-control.
I shook my head, trying to physically break whatever spell this woman had on me, then held out my hand.
“Give me your phone.”
She blinked, clearly caught off guard, but after a beat, she pulled it from her pocket and handed it over. I quickly typed my number and sent myself a text. I handed it back to her, our fingers brushing for a moment longer than necessary.
“There,” I said, the faintest smile creeping onto my lips. “Now we’ve got each other’s numbers. Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“I have plans tonight,” she said, trying for firm but landing somewhere between flustered and adorable.
“So do I,” I shot back, letting a little grin sneak through. “Reschedule.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically hear the“Excuse me?”she was holding back. Crap. I was coming off like an entitled prick.Again. Old habits die hard, apparently. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about my tone—hell, I’d leaned into it most of my life. But I didn’t want her to think that was all there was to me. She didn’t deserve that version of Chris Jones.
I softened, taking her hand, my thumb grazing her skin.
“I’d really like to see you tonight. Please? Just…tryto make it work.”
Her expression shifted like she wasn’t sure whether to roll her eyes or let herself smile. She let out a little breath, and I could see her walls coming down, just a crack.
