Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,66

bag. I just need a minute to catch my breath and collect my thoughts.

Theo leans one shoulder on the wall next to my door, casually crossing his ankles as he shoves one hand through his hair, messing it up and making it flop back across his forehead. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are solely focussed on me.

“I had a great night,” I say, biting my lip.

He nods, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence. I can hear my own heart beating.

“Well, good night, Luce.” He leans in, dropping a soft kiss to my cheek.

Disappointment grips me, and my hand automatically fists his shirt, not letting him pull back, as a small whimper leaves my lips. His body stills against mine, just a hair’s breadth away. We’re so close, and I think I feel him tremble, but it could be me instead. When he eventually pulls back, my hand acts of its own accord. I reach out and push his hair from his forehead. I’ve been dying to do that for the last hour.

His hand catches mine, and he presses my palm flat against his chest, holding it there as his gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth. Slowly, he leans in, making me lean back against the door as he traps me in a little cage with his body, the heat of him pulsing into me.

I’m so attracted to this man. My lust is a living, breathing thing, clawing at my insides, demanding I move closer, that I pull his mouth to mine to get a taste of him—and this time, remember it.

My body is desperate for an epic skin-deep affair, where I get to screw the life out of the hot guy just for one night. Maybe I could follow that line of muscle at his hips and get down on my knees to see what he tastes like. Thoughts of his hands gripping my hair, his mouth on my body, the kind of frenzied passion I saw on that video from last night … I want that so badly, I ache.

This might be my last chance. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the humdrum of normality—lying awake on my uncomfortable second-hand bed in my best friend’s flat, wondering if Lucas is letting that gym bunny sleep on my Egyptian cotton sheets.

My inner voice is screaming at me, reasoning how I need to indulge in some wild rebound sex for the night.

It turns out, my inner voice is a slut—she also sounds suspiciously like Aubrey.

I look up at Theo, our eyes meet, and I gulp. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. This is probably my only opportunity to sleep with someone as hot as him. We could have one mind-blowing night that I’ll get to hold on to for the rest of my life and compare all future guys to—yeah, you might be hot, but you’re not Theo Stone in a posh hotel with a view of a lake hot.

I hold his gaze, hoping to convey without having to say it that I want him to make a move. Yes, I’m that chicken that can talk the talk but not walk the walk. I need him to start the engine and kiss me first; after that, I can drive the damn car. I just need a little jump-start to boost my confidence. After Lucas, I’m a little lacking.

The muscle in his jaw twitches as he reaches out, brushing his fingers across my cheek before curling his hand around the nape of my neck. I arch my back, moving impossibly closer. I can feel how hard he is already; his erection pushes against my stomach and almost drives me insane with desire. My whole being is taut like a bow. Sparks flicker to life between us.

My hands are on his chest, so I can feel his heart thumping rapidly under my palm. When his head starts dipping towards mine, my insides rejoice, and I hold my breath, just waiting for our mouths to connect. My blood sizzles; the waiting is torture.

At the last possible moment, I see a brief flash of something akin to panic flicker in his eyes, and he seems to have a change of heart. Instead of kissing me, he turns his head slightly, setting his cheek to my temple as he hugs me.

No! Just a hug? This is how it ends?

Disappointment surges through me, and I accidentally let a needy whimper slip from