Red Carpet Kiss - Melissa Brown Page 0,16

how attractive he was.

“I guess I’ll see you later this week? Costume department needs my measurements. Maybe I’ll stop by your office or something.”

“That’d be nice.”

Luke leaned in, his eyebrows pressed toward one another in a pensive glance. His lips brushed against hers and, although her immediate reaction was to turn her head, to only give him access to a cheek, she just couldn’t do that. Desire was building within her, and even though a kiss was not nearly enough to satisfy that desire, it would have to do for now.

Her lips touched his with subtle urgency. He smiled before placing a hand behind her neck and kissing her deeply, his tongue gaining entry inside her welcoming mouth. Her arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer, her tongue completely at his mercy. Her heart was racing inside her chest. Just when she thought of leading him back to her car, and driving quickly back to her place, he pulled away. He took his lips away from her, and immediately she craved him, wanted him to return. Her lips pressed to his, the hunger inside her demanding to be fed. After several seconds, he pulled away, teasing her with feathery touches to her upper lip. And then he kissed her again, pushing her to the brink before pulling away once more.

Her hands found his shoulders, and she pressed into them with frustration. Her words came out in a throaty moan. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking.”

She was confused. “Checking what?”

“You had me all confused. But now I know.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This”—he gestured between them—“is just as mutual as I thought it was.”

Her body stiffened at his words. She felt exposed, silly, and ridiculous. She hated that her carnal behavior had revealed her true feelings toward him. She craved control, and she felt it slipping from her grasp.

“So what if it is?” She puckered her lips and stood straight and tall.

He ran his fingers through her hair, releasing the bun, and allowing her hair to spill down her shoulders. She gasped, peering into his eyes.

Luke ignored her question. His fingers weaved in and out through the loose curls that tumbled down her back. “I like your hair like this. It suits you.”

He kissed her one last time on the lips before pressing his lips to her exposed shoulder, sending shivers down her spine.

“Just so you know, I have no intention of backing down. I want you, Elle. And I know you want me too.”

She swallowed hard and licked her lips. She was terribly uncomfortable yet aroused by his words. She wanted him in her bed, desperately.

“Good,” she whispered, the corners of her mouth curling up in satisfaction.

He grinned at her response, before saying good night. Her body tingled as she drove back home, unable to escape thoughts of that kiss, of the way he’d teased her, of how he made her come apart. Their chemistry was no longer something she could deny. She only hoped she could maintain her professionalism despite her building need for Luke Kingston.

Elle awoke, yet again, with sweat dripping down her neck and an ache between her legs. For four straight nights, she’d dreamed of Luke—above her, beneath her, behind her. On the bed, the couch, against the wall—the fantasies made her yearn every single morning. She despised her alarm clock for pulling her from the encounters.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes, attempting to focus her vision as she shifted to a seated position. How long could she resist him? Of that, she was unsure. He was invading her psyche in more ways than she was comfortable. For work, it was having a more than positive effect on her productivity. Writing David was simple—scenes poured from her brain and out through her fingers as she typed. The sexual tension between David and Molly was screaming from the pages. Rob was delighted at episodes eight and nine. She’d delivered them just yesterday and he praised her up and down—predicting all sorts of grandeur for the upcoming season. Luke was proving to be quite the muse.

But when she wasn’t hard at work on another script, her mind was wandering and, like a smitten teenager, she’d been counting down the days until Luke would arrive for his appointment with Barb, the head costume designer. And today, it had finally arrived.

After a refreshing shower, Elle pondered the clothing in her closet. Her schedule for the morning was a table read with Nolan, Gina, and several members of the supporting cast, followed by

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