off the bedside lamp, and the room goes dark.
Billie snuggles deeper into the blankets and lets out a few soft moans of contentment. “Good God, this feels so good.”
She moans again, and my dick threatens to karate chop right through the linens.
Fuck, she needs to stop making fucking noises like that.
Thankfully, the moans stop, but a quiet whisper lets me know she’s not quite ready to settle in for the night. “So, I take it you stole that screenplay out of my bag so you could read the five pages you promised me?”
Of course, she didn’t miss that.
“I did.”
“And what did you think?”
“Espionage isn’t your typical secret agent action movie.”
“No, it’s definitely not,” she says, a smile in her voice. “It’s better.”
She’s right. It is better. It’s not a blockbuster, hitting box office records because of crazy action scenes kind of film. It has the kind of emotional depth that gets Oscar nominations. Only twenty-four pages in, and I know this movie will be a big deal if it’s done right.
“Could you see yourself playing Finn Slate?”
Truthfully, it’d be a fucking honor. It’s a role I would’ve killed for when I was still in Hollywood.
It’s a role that makes you actually miss Hollywood.
“I’m not sure. I’d probably have to read more to find out,” I answer with a little white lie. I’ve read more than the five fucking pages I promised, and I can easily put myself in Finn Slate’s shoes.
“You should probably do that,” she adds on a whisper. “You know, read more, maybe read the whole thing, just to make sure you get the full picture.”
I chuckle softly. “I’ll consider it.”
“Good.” Billie yawns and turns onto her side, her face closer to mine, and another moan escapes her lips. “Oh, for the love of everything, this bed. It’s a dream.”
That moan. That fucking moan.
It makes my mind wander to all sorts of crazy, dirty things.
I want to hear what that moan sounds like when she’s doing other things.
Feeling other things.
“I almost forgot to tell you,” I whisper, and I can’t stop my fingers from reaching out to brush her hair out of her eyes. “This bed has rules.”
Her eyes pop open and meet mine. “Like what?”
“No kissing,” I whisper. “After last night, I’m sure that might be hard for you to follow.”
“Oh, whatever,” she retorts and rolls those pretty green eyes of hers. “That was just a friendly kiss. A thank-you kiss.”
“Oh,” I say, but I can’t seem to move my gaze away from her lips. “So, there’s a difference.”
Her tongue sneaks out and licks her bottom lip.
Fuck.
“Yes,” she whispers back. “A huge difference.”
“So, friendly kisses are okay?”
She nods. “Uh-huh.”
Man, I want to kiss her…
So, I do.
Without breaking eye contact, I move closer and press my lips to hers.
It’s a soft kiss. A chaste kiss.
Until a tiny moan escapes her lungs, and my heart picks up a rhythm so fast, I can’t stop the rest of me from taking off at a gallop through the open gate.
She slips her tongue into my mouth, and I take her lips greedily, kissing and licking and sucking at her mouth like a man who’s starved.
Billie responds with fervor, pulling at my shoulders and back with desperate hands, and before I know it, I’m hovering over top of her, my cock pressed against the apex of her thighs. She moves her little hips back and forth, sliding herself against me.
Fuck. I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t stop.
I want her. Right fucking now.
Billie
I wonder how far the definition of holding hands can be stretched. I just want to be prepared for when I tell someone about this one day—probably my grandchildren while on my deathbed, but still. Luca Weaver is so close to putting his penis inside me.
I’ve had great sex. I’ve even had wild sex—only once, in a library parking lot when I was eighteen, but yeah, it counts. But Lord help me, I’ve never, not once, felt this consumed by just the freaking buildup.
The sex hasn’t even started yet, and my skin feels feverish and every damn cell inside my body is tingling with desire.
This might be a really bad idea, but I don’t care.
I’m all fucking in.
Panting breaths escape my lungs, and it feels like my entire body is aching. Luca kisses me hard and deep, and I grind my hips, feeling his rigid arousal against me.
Boxers, T-shirts, sleep shorts, there’re too many clothes in between us right now.
“Off,” I mutter through a moan, and for the briefest of