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She returns the kiss, no hesitation, no holding back. Her hands fist in my shirt, tugging, demanding.
Suddenly frantic, I turn us, lying her down the length of the bench in one smooth motion.
She makes a surprised noise against my lips when I move over her, but her legs wrap around my hips on instinct.
“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Taking you. Tasting you. It’s been fucking torture,” I mutter against her neck. “Every time you laugh, every time you shoot me one of those snarky looks, when you bite that goddamn lip.”
She grabs my jaw. “That’s what I spent all last night thinking about. In my bed. Alone.”
I’m relieved beyond what I’ve ever felt before. I knew he didn’t stand a chance, but I needed to hear it all the same.
I needed to hear her say it. That she went home alone. That she thought about this. About me.
Us.
“I think you get off on making me—”
“Emmett.” She grabs my jaw. “Did you storm in here and lock the door just to talk? Stop thinking.”
Then she pulls me back to her mouth, kissing me like she wants to bruise me with it. Her needy moans urge me on.
My hands are everywhere—under her shirt, tracing the soft line of her waist, removing her sandals, tugging at her jeans until she lifts her hips and finally lets me pull them down.
“We don’t have long, but I’m not leaving this fucking room without knowing how you taste,” I growl, getting rid of her pants as efficiently as possible.
“I thought we were staying away from each other?” she murmurs, clearly just as torn as I am. Both of us ready to break every rule we laid out for each other that night in the diner.
I groan when I see her plain white cotton thong. It makes her look far too i
“This can be a onetime thing. Just to… take the edge off.”
“Yeah. Okay. Definitely. Just to take the edge off.” Her eyes are glassy as she pants out her agreement.
I kneel on the simple plywood floor at the end of the bench and pull her to the edge, one hand gripping each thigh as I spread her. Pausing, I stare for several beats, any intelligent thoughts shriveling up and dying at the sight before me.
“Fuck, Jules. Looking like this should be illegal.”
“Taking this long should be illegal.”
“Mouthy,” I mutter as I reach forward and hook my fingers in the gusset of her underwear to expose her.
She hisses when the cool air hits her cunt. It makes her clench.
“Fuck. Fuck. You want it bad, don’t you?”
“Emmett—”
I cut her off by pressing my fingertips into the fabric and yanking roughly. My patience is shot, and I want her riding my face as soon as possible. I rip her panties over toned thighs and shove them into my pocket before tugging her closer and dropping my head to take one long, firm lick.
She cries out, and it’s fucking music to my ears.
“Yes, Jules?” I smile against her pussy. “Was there something you wanted to say to me?”
“I…” she trails off when I go back in, sucking hard once on her clit.
“You’re going to keep your legs spread and let me enjoy myself?”
“Fuck you,” she breathes. I grin up at her as she props herself on her elbows and gazes down at me, pure dazed lust on her face.
“Maybe one day. But not today.”
Then I dive in, pulling out every stop to make her feel good and forget about every other man who has ever existed.
I spread her with my hands, thumbs trailing up over her lips, tongue trailing close behind. She tastes like heaven, and the sounds she makes drive me wild.
When I spear her with my tongue, her body bucks against the intrusion and she murmurs my name, voice thick, fingers weaving into my hair.
She grinds against my face with reckless abandon. “Emmett, yes.”
“Quiet, doll,” I murmur against her tender flesh. “They’re filming just outside.” I move my mouth back up to her clit and slip two fingers inside to fill her up the way I know she needs.
Julia gasps, and I’m pretty sure it’s partially from the sensation and partially from the realization that we are sneaking around—flying dangerously close to the sun.
Her words transform into wordless moans, and I can feel from the tautness in her body that she’s trying desperately to keep quiet.
And I don’t make it easy for her. I work her hard. Fucking her with my fingers and feeling her go so warm and wet around me. Tasting her arousal as she makes a mess for me. Watching every twitch of her muscles. Storing away every needy sound she makes so that I can play this soundtrack in my head when I’m alone later and fucking my fist while thinking of her.
“You going to come for me, Jules?” I taunt while trailing my mouth over her i
“Yes. Fuck. Please. Please don’t stop.” Her quiet voice brims with tension, and her skin hums beneath me as I slip a palm up the underside of her leg, spreading her wider before doubling my efforts.
She asked me not to stop. And who am I to deny her?
I don’t stop. I use my mouth to show her how badly I want her—how badly I need her. Sucking, licking, biting.
And when her legs shake, I still don’t let up. Her fingernails grip my scalp. I can tell how close to the edge she is.
And I shove her right over.
She cries out as her body bows off the bench, and my free hand shoots up to cover her mouth. I want to hear her make that noise over and over again.
I hold her there, still going, wanting to draw out her pleasure for as long as I can before I have to go back out there and pretend I have eyes for anyone other than the woman stretched out before me right now.
“Mm,” she murmurs before her body goes soft.
I watch her. Pink cheeks. Glassy eyes. Damp skin.
She looks thoroughly sated, and it makes me feel like a king. Making her feel good is a high I’ve never felt before.
She throws an arm over her face with a contented sigh and a disbelieving giggle. “I might owe you one for that.”
I pull my fingers from her, loving the sight of her slick, puffy, pink pussy before me. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind. Rip off my belt and impale her on my cock. Listen to her scream my name over and over again.
But I can’t. Not here. Not now.
“No, doll,” I drop a kiss on her thigh. “That was all for me.”
I’m not lying. I needed that. Needed her. To feel… us.
Suddenly, the reality of it all feels heavy. It feels real. It feels like the thing I’ve been avoiding.
If nothing else, it’s exactly what we agreed we would not do.
But with her, my willpower is trash. I’m not sure why I bothered trying when everything with her feels completely inevitable. Like it’s meant to be.
We’re meant to be.
Still kneeling, I reach for her jeans as she sits up.
“Sorry,” I mutter, slipping her ankles into her pants.
She laughs. “No, you’re not.”
I grin now, staring at her legs as I attempt to get her dressed again. When I finally peek up at her face, she looks… lighter somehow. Happy. And that makes breaking all my rules worth it.
“No, I’m not,” I finally confess with a wink.
“That was—”
“Hot as hell and also dangerous as fuck.” I glance over my shoulder, hoping against hope that no one heard us or is figuring out that we’re locked in here together. “I have to get back.” Regret tinges my voice as I turn my attention to her.
She stares at me with a soft smile on her lips. She’s fucking perfect. Too perfect for me. Too good to be true.
But I don’t tell her that. I just push up and kiss her, taking her mouth with a gentleness that doesn’t match the way I just took the rest of her.
“See you out there,” I say, drawing away even though I don’t want to.
It’s only when I’ve reached the door that she hisses, “Wait!”
When I turn, she’s looking around herself, searching for something. “My panties are missing.”
“No, they’re not.” I reach back, removing them from my pocket with one quick tug.
They dangle from my pointer finger.
Her eyes widen. “Give them back.”
“No chance. These are mine now. Let’s call them a souvenir.” Her jaw drops open as I toss her a cocky wink and push them into my jeans.
“You can’t just—”
“What? Go out there and continue recording with your underwear in my pocket? Watch me.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond. I just turn and walk back to the set, only thinking about the fact that she wants a repeat performance.
Hands slung casually in my pockets, panties pinched between my fingers, I a