Page 71 of Romance Is Dead

A few more steps and I was at the door. Without hesitating, I yanked the doorknob and walked inside. As I stood, chest heaving, I heard him cross the threshold behind me, close the door, and lock it with a click.

I didn’t move a muscle, waiting to see what he would do. Wordlessly, he padded slowly across the floor. I waited, my skin on fire, every sense heightened. Then he was right behind me, the front of him pressing against the back of me, his hands gripping my hips.

“Tell me to leave,” he whispered, his lips right below my ear, his breath sending tingles tripping up my spine. “I will.”

For one brief, fleeting moment I considered it. I could stop it, tell him to get out, and listen as he left. But the words wouldn’t leave my throat. I stood there, savoring the feel of his hands on my hips, his fingertips gripping me hard through my robe like it was taking everything in him to hold himself still. I pushed back slowly, pressing my ass against his groin. He gasped, a groan escaping his throat as he pulled me against him harder.

“Fuck.” He swallowed. “You feel so fucking good and we still have our clothes on.”

I almost did it, almost told him to get out before we could go any further. But I’d run out of excuses.

Spinning around, I crushed my lips to his. His mouth met mine with urgency, his arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me with ease until my legs wrapped around him and I was perched on his hips. I let my robe fall open, eager to have my bare skin against his. I was done ignoring whatever this was between us—I wanted him as close as possible.

“I’ve been fantasizing about this,” Teddy said against my mouth as he sank onto the sofa with me still in his lap.

“Me too.” He was in nothing but a pair of boxers he’d changed into, and I ground myself shamelessly against him, taking satisfaction in the groans I elicited from him.

“Hang on.” Teddy broke the kiss to press his mouth against the base of my neck, giving my skin a gentle nip. “Let’s get this out of the way.” He ripped my robe from my shoulders, tossing it across the room, where it pooled on the floor. I didn’t mind. I pressed our bare torsos together, letting my head fall back, and he trailed kisses along my collarbone. I could feel him erect beneath me, and I imagined what it would feel like to have him lay me down and push into me. Hopefully hard, almost rough—gentle strokes wouldn’t be enough for the aching need between my legs that was growing more intense by the moment.

“Wait.” Teddy pulled away, breathing hard. “I want to look at you.” Gently, he pushed me forward, his eyes trailing down my body. Taking me in. Like I was a feast for his eyes. His hands ran up my belly and splayed across my chest, his thumbs curving under my breasts. I could tell my nipples were hard under the pasties, begging for attention, and I moaned as I let my head tip back.

“These are also in my way,” he said, studying the circles of silicone, his eyes hazy with lust. One fingertip played with its edge, loosening the adhesive a touch.

I waited for him to continue, but he said nothing—just kept rubbing the perimeter of the material. Taking his time, enjoying teasing me. I made little noises of discontent, dying for him to get on with it and give me some relief. My breasts ached, needing him to massage them, to play with my nipples, which I swear could have cut glass.

But he didn’t. He kept circling his thumbs before backing away to run a trail along the underside of my breast, then pressing closer, without ever giving me the attention I was begging for.

“Then take them off,” I finally said through gritted teeth.

Teddy raised an eyebrow. “So impatient.” He pulled me closer, pressing his lips, featherlight, to my collarbone. “Should I take them off slowly? Or quickly?” His hands trailed back down my ass, gripping me roughly for a second as his mouth moved to a spot behind my ear that made my eyes cross. “God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t keep my mouth off of you.”

“Rip them off. Now.”

Without another word, he obliged, finally—gripping the edges and tearing them off in two swift motions. The delicate skin stung, especially given how overstimulated and sensitive every square inch of my body was feeling. But no sooner had the material been ripped away than Teddy’s mouth met the hard, sensitive point, his thumb massaging the other, and my head fell back with the sheer force of relief. God, his mouth was amazing, soft and wet and firm and moving on my breasts in a way that made me ache for it on other parts of my body.

I whimpered as I once again ground against him, feeling like I might explode.

“Do you have a condom?” Teddy’s voice was husky in my ear, his lips moving against my neck as he spoke.

I pulled away, the lust lifting just enough that I could reply. “Seriously?” I motioned to the grand total of five square inches of fabric covering my body. “Where exactly would I be hiding it?”

He groaned, pressing his forehead between my breasts. “I figured—I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“My trailer?” I tried to imagine pulling myself together enough to slip past crew members without them thinking I was in the middle of some kind of cardiac event.

Teddy shook his head. “Too far away.”

“Unfair.” I rubbed myself into his lap again, savoring his hard thickness. “But you’re right. Shit.” I pulled back, trying to catch my breath and calm my heart rate. “You’re right. We need to stop.”

“Stop? I don’t think so.” Teddy gripped me by the hips and swung me off his lap, turning me around and depositing me onto the sofa cushion. He kneeled on the ground, staring up at me with lust-glazed eyes. “Can I?” His thumb worked under the strap of my thong.

The way he was looking at me, like I was a work of his art he was lucky to be experiencing, made my inner thighs clench. “Yes,” I gasped, unable to get the words out fast enough. “Yes please.”

“Thank God.”

Just as quickly as he’d removed my pasties, he tore off the thong—sending it sailing somewhere across the room. Where, precisely, I did not care. Because a moment later, my thighs were pressed along the sides of his face, and his mouth was on me, and everything beyond the precise sensations of his tongue became suddenly, wholly irrelevant.

Dear God. Men had gone down on me before, but not like this, like I was dessert he was both savoring and eager to finish at the same time. He ran his tongue up me slowly before centering on my clit, his tongue swirling and flicking. The sensation was utterly, deliciously divine. Each warm, wet stroke sent me dangerously, dizzyingly close to the edge.

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