Page 60 of Steamy on Set

“Only you could make my anxiety about you and not seem selfish.”

I gasp with faux offense. He opens his eyes to look at me and sees I’m smiling at him.

“I can make almost anything about me. It’s my entitled talent. I’m glad it didn’t come across as selfish, though.”

He laughs again, raising our intertwined hands to rest on his chest.

“Seriously, you are amazing, and so far everything I have seen about this movie has met that level. So don’t worry, this scene will be that, too.” I sweep one of his locs out of his face, resting my hand on his cheek.

He looks down at all the parts of us that are connected. His brow furrows in concentration at our touching hands. His lips slightly part open a little more when his tongue comes out to lick across the bottom one. I wonder if he is thinking about the last time my hands were in his. I wait for him to say something else, biting down on my bottom lip.

“What do you need?” I ask when enough time has passed that it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything.

“A distraction. I need something to take my mind off this movie.”

I stare down at his mouth, thinking about what it will take to distract him. Looking back up, I catch him staring at my lips too, fire burning in his eyes.

“Let me guess, would a pretty girl or boy kissing you senseless do the trick?”

His lips curve upward, making him look feral.

My breath catches at the sight.

“No, not just anyone will do. It’ll take someone special.” He untangles our fingers, bringing his now free hand to rest onmy leg. His thumb works circles into the curve of my knee as he flutters his eyelashes, trying to look innocent. Watching him watch me with that sensual hunger burning in his eyes, only one name comes to mind when I think of who he should kiss.

Standing, I walk over to the counter, trying to outrun that thought. It catches up as he comes to stand behind me, hands lowering onto the counter on either side of me. I turn around and find I’m pinned by him, surrounded by his feel and scent. An urge burns inside of me, stroked by desire.

“Errol.” My voice lacks density as all oxygen leaves my lungs at the sight of his head dipped in my direction.

A few locs slip out of his ponytail, coming to rest on his cheek.

“Farrah.”

He says my name like it’s a prayer. Heavy on his lips, it’s full of all his wants and desires. The air feels hot in the space between our bodies, full and ready to burst. Common sense is screaming something at me from the back of my mind, but I can’t hear it over the sound of my own rapid heart beat as I move my mouth up, almost meeting his.

He takes my chin in his hands, tilting my face up more. Lowering his mouth, he stops an inch away from me.

“Farrah?” he asks, inquiring if he can go all the way and finish what was started the other night. I know the answer even before I speak it.

“Yes.”

We hold for a breath, a span of a moment that feels like forever and less than a second all at the same time. Then his lips are pressing into mine. The pressure is light, tentative and subtle, like he is still unsure if he should be doing this. But all at once I’m on fire from his touch. He moves his mouth against mine, and fireworks explode inside of me, lighting me up. Hungry for more, I push up on my toes, deepening the kiss. The action unlocks something in him, and suddenly he is moving. Hishands slide to my waist, pulling me tight against him as he moans his approval into my mouth.

Hooking my arms around his neck, I pull him down so our height difference is less of a problem. With his lips fiercely moving against mine, and our bodies pressed against one another, goosebumps rise up my back. When I think I can’t take any more, his tongue eases across my bottom lip, asking permission to enter. I part my mouth, allowing him entrance. He brings a hand up to rest on the nape of my neck, holding me steady.

His tongue grazes across every inch of mine, intertwining, and caressing. Dancing to the tune of our lust. He tastes like coffee, and something that is inherently just him. He makes my mind write stories about our future, using the feelings he elicits from me as ink. Every part of me leans into this, certainty seeming so clear in this moment.

When the hand on my neck slides into my hair, grabbing my curls, he shakes free my last shred of self control. Locking his fingers in, he pulls lightly, tightening his hold. The action pulls a moan out of me that he seems to like, because he does it again. Passion ignites in me, heating my body until the only thing that makes it seem bearable is taking off my clothes. Pulling back to do just that, I’m caught on the sight of his swollen kissed lips.

Not yet finished, he brings his mouth to the curve of my neck. His lips graze across, peppering little kisses up and down. Each press shoots down into my core, building the anticipation. My panties soak through with every nibble and smooch.

“Errol.” I can’t take anymore and not want to strip him bare in this trailer.

He stops, his mouth hovering above mine. His eyes are heavy with desire. Lid’s half open, they are full of his want to do more. Instead of acting on all the wicked thoughts traipsing across both our minds, he steps back, letting me go.

Without all the warmth of him pressed against me, I’m cold. Crossing my arms, the loss of his touch slows my heart down enough that I can finally think clearly.

What did we just do?

---