“Because if I’m not,” she cried, “I don’t exist! I’m invisible. But maybe, just maybe, if I’m loud enough, someone somewhere will see me and someone somewhere will know that I’m here. They’ll know Ceci Rivers is here!” She turned a circle in the street. “Do you hear that, Barcelona? Ceci Rivers is here!”
She glared back at him. Those eyes were glistening.
I see you, Ceci Rivers. I see you whether you’re with me or not. I see you day and night. I see you in my dreams. I can’t not see you.
She thrust her finger in his face, close enough that if she moved it an inch, it would have poked his eyeball. “And you, Sir Stick Up His Ass, will not silence me!”
His heart was beating so fast and furious, he felt like it might break through his rib cage.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and thrust his mouth on hers. She stiffened. He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t. Her lips parted. He slid his hands up her neck, cupped her cheeks and pulled her in deeper. His tongue entered her mouth. She tasted like the wine they’d drunk, the anise brandy and the crema catalana they’d had for dessert—that custard and burnt caramel. Only better. And something else. Something so subtle he couldn’t decide whether it was sweet or savory. Could it be both? At the same time?
That’s her.
He felt a sudden and hungry desire to find out what she tasted like between her legs.
He put one arm around her waist and pulled her in even deeper. How was it possible she wasn’t close enough when he could feel her beating heart against his own?
And she can feel every inch of you. Every growing inch.
The throbbing between his legs was making his breath ragged.
Was he surprised her kiss would make him feel like this? Give him a raging hard-on and make him feel like the earth below him quaked when it was him who was unsteady? No. He’d kissed her before. But something else surprised him.
The way she let him hold her, the way she became warm and silky in his arms, the way she melted in his embrace … it was as if she knew she could lean on him, depend on him, because that’s what she was doing … now.
But she doesn’t know that. You don’t either.
He pulled away and gazed at her. She opened her eyes and blinked. And then her eyes tilted skyward.
“Watch out!” she screamed.
Clarke looked up. And not even a fraction of a second passed after he’d pushed her out of the way when the flood of water hit him smack in the face.
@motorsportmax13
Sir Leo Clarke dodging champagne on the podium only to take a bucket of water to the face in the Barcelona streets … poetic cinema
#BarcelonaKnights
@poshladsunited
He wins the Spanish GP and gets absolutely drenched on his fake date night … someone get Sir Clarke a towel and a therapist
#PoorLeo
@fastlanequeen
When your fake girlfriend has real beef with half of Barcelona and you still take the hit like a knight in shining armor … Sir Clarke is HIM.
#CeciVsBarcelona
@itsnotthatdeepf1
She warned him! Ceci legit yelled “look out!” before he dove like a Marvel stunt double right into that waterfall. The man is in too deep and I’m HERE for it.
#SheWarnedHim
@fauxmancefan
