He wraps his arms around me and lifts me, and I lock my ankles behind his back. It feels weird doing this in disjointed sections. Also, without the kissing. He migrates his hands down to cup my ass cheeks. I raise an eyebrow.
“Just getting leverage,” he says, deadpan. “It has nothing to do with me wanting to grope your ass.”
“And yet, you are groping my ass.”
“Well, semi-groping. Please note my hands are over, not under, your skirt.”
Please note, my body wants him to be under the skirt, fingering the elastic of my panties. Distracting me from all the conflicting emotions I’m too much of a coward to deal with.
The lights change again and Marco yells, “For the love of God, Lance! They look like a giant two-headed Quasimodo! Can I please get some blasted definition in the cross lighting? This is ridiculous!”
Lighting assistants rush around sidestage as Holt lowers me until I’m settled fully onto his crotch. Once again, I give him the eyebrow.
“What?” His innocent act has gotten better over the years, but it doesn’t fool me. “It’s easier to hold you like this.”
“That’s because I’m resting on your erection.”
“I know. It’s like a shelf.”
I shake my head. “You have zero shame, you know that?”
“That’s not true. I have a great deal of shame. I’ve just given it the day off. I’ve been working it hard recently, and now it’s all exhausted and needs to recuperate.”
“Unlike your penis.”
“He rarely needs to recuperate. Not around you, anyway.”
He sounds relaxed, but the way he’s breathing and the subtle movement of his hips tell me otherwise. Seeing him like this, barely restrained, makes me want to torture him even more. Marco helps with my mission.
“Okay, Ethan, move her to the bed. Cassie, I want him between your legs.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Ethan lowers me onto the bed, then crawls between my legs. I pull off his shirt and wrap my arms around his neck as he settles against my crotch. He groans and drops his head onto my shoulder.
“This is fucking ridiculous. Why can’t it be like a movie set where they get standins to do this stuff?”
“More blue!” Marco says. “And bring up the pinks from behind!”
I try to hold myself still. If I didn’t hate tech rehearsals before, this experience is enough to make me despise them. With every minute that passes, I feel more out of control. My instincts are telling me to take back my power. Fuck him. Let body-quaking sex dull all of my other thought processes.
Simplify things in the most complicated way possible.
“You okay?” he says as he leans on his elbows. “I’m not crushing you?”
“You’re fine.”
“Thanks. I’ve been working out. I was wondering when you’d notice. You’re fine, too.”
“Are you trying to be infuriating today?”
“Nope. Just comes naturally. Are you trying to drive me insane by moving like that?”
“Like what?”
He looks between us. I realize I’m rocking my pelvis against him. Just a little. Just enough to take the edge off the ache.
He lets out a low groan.
“Cassie…” He closes his eyes and puts more weight against me. The added pressure is nice, but it stops my movements. “Have some pity, woman. You’re killing me.”
The lights brighten a little.
“Okay, Ethan,” Marco says, “some thrusting please.”
Ethan lets out a short laugh. “Thrusting. Of course. Just what I need right now.”
He fake thrusts while keeping his erection away from me.
Evil thoughts fill my brain as I stroke the back of his neck and bring one hand down to his chest to graze his nipple.
His rhythm falters. “Stop it.”
“Why?” I trail a finger down his abs, and his face turns red.
“You know why.” His voice has dropped an octave. It’s full of breath and dripping with want.
“Tell me.”
“Cassie … please … not now.”
I’m Aphrodite again. He can’t hide how much he wants me, and it’s intoxicating.
“Don’t you want me to touch you? Don’t you want me to be your girlfriend again? Break that three-year-long dry spell?”
I brush against the line of him through his pants. He hisses and swears. I smile and keep going.
“This isn’t fucking funny. We’re working.”
I press my palm fully against him. His whole body tenses.
Ahhhh, there it is. The rush of power. My dominion over him is written all over his face. The way his eyelids flutter and close.
“Fuck…”
I keep stroking him, and he looks like he’s being electrocuted. He grunts and drops his pelvis down, which traps my hand between us. I squeeze him, because it’s all I can do. Apparently it’s enough. He stiffens and clamps his eyes shut, then clenches his jaw to stifle a moan. After long seconds of tension, he relaxes and glares at me.
I try to play innocent, but I’m not as good as he is. After what I just did, that much is obvious.
He grabs my hand from between us and plants it at the side of my head. He’s pissed. Really pissed.
“That was out of line,” he whispers. “What the fuck did I do to deserve that?”