Page 68 of Not Another Love Song

He hovered, smirking as he aimed for her jaw. “Here?” he offered.

Gwen swallowed, and when she didn’t stop him, he placed his lips on her skin, sending shivers through her. His hands stayed delicately on her hips.

“Here?” he whispered against her neck, just below her ear.

She nodded, blushing at the game he played. His lips pressed, parting on her skin and leaving wet kisses along her throat, sucking and nipping and curling her toes in her stockings. Her hands rose, bracing herself on his stomach. He gasped against her neck and sucked another bruise into her skin.

Her eyes drifted closed, and his mouth trailed down to her clavicle. “Here?”

She smiled, and he dropped light kisses across her collarbone until he arrived at the top of her breasts.

“Here?” he mumbled into her chest.

Her breath came quick, lifting her skin to meet his lips with every inhale.

She blinked down at him, his legs bending to bring his lips to her breasts. A small press of his fingers into her hips.

“Yes,” she breathed.

His eyes locked on hers as he dragged his lips across the skin at the top of her dress, and she couldn’t look away as he placed his mouth on her sternum, landing between her breasts. All thoughts of leaving the bathroom anytime soon vanished as his head lowered and he kissed her breast lightly over her dress.

Her eyes closed again, and her nipples tightened. Her thighs squeezed together. His mouth swept over to her other breast, and maybe that was his teeth, nipping at her.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders as one of her knees buckled. She pressed her lips together, holding back a moan as he dragged his mouth across the velvet over her ribs, hands on her hips squeezing.

It felt like fingers sweeping over her stomach, teasing and promising. But knowing it was his mouth…His lips worshipping her through her dress…

“Here?”

Her eyes fluttered open. He was on his knees, holding her hips in his large hands, looking up at her. His mouth hovered, lips whispering against the front of her. The center of her.

His eyes were black, and he breathed evenly, calmly. She felt his air warm against her hip.

On his knees. In a tuxedo. In a public bathroom.

“Gwen,” he whispered. “Here?”

Like he was begging for permission. Like if she said yes, her dress would disappear and she’d be lifted onto the sink.

He stared up at her, stirring her, and lowered his lips to kiss the fabric over her hipbone.

Sharp knocking. “Places for act two!”

She jumped. His hands steadied her hips. And just before she fully emerged from her haze, he dropped a kiss to her stomach, below her belly button, just inches from where he needed to be. He stood, and even that was the most sensuous thing Gwen had ever experienced. His body brushed hers as his limbs extended, rising.

He looked at himself in the mirror over her shoulder, a quick push of his hand through his hair that almost had her knees giving out again, and then he stared down at her, hands rising to press soft fingerprints into her cheeks and jaw, tilting her face up to him.

His lips on her cheek, her chin, her eyelashes.

She blushed when he adjusted himself in his tuxedo pants and moved away, leaving her leaning against the sink, watching him pull the door open and smile at her before disappearing.

She turned to the mirror, and she felt like she could see his lips everywhere, pushing into her velvet dress, burning her hipbones, drifting across her chest.

Gwen fixed what she could before exiting and running into the relieved stage manager. They cued her entrance, and she waved again to the top tiers, winding her way around the first violins, and taking up her chair.

She looked at him once she sat. His dark, expressive eyes grazed her body.

She applauded for Nathan. She started the first song of act two—and fully comprehended halfway through what had just happened.

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