Just thinking about sprinting with Kane makes my heart pick up speed. Not in fear of him. Well, maybe a little of that. He makes me feel things I’ve never experienced before and only after a few days of really knowing each other. You add in those kisses, and I’m way beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.
The way he makes me feel … I know that when things progress past a few steamy kisses, I might not be able to let him in all the way. Thinking about Kane—every sinfully flawless inch of Kane—seeing me—every flawed inch of me—intimately might be the hardest chip to knock off my shield of self-preservation.
Am I ready to be intimate with someone again? Brad was my first, and last, lover. Being intimate with him was never an enjoyable experience. It was always about him. Instead of giving me heated words meant for pleasure, his always meant to hurt.
Will I be able to be with Kane without letting those memories get the best of me?
“Jeez, Kirby, if I wasn’t a ball of nerves already, you have successfully planted the thought in my mind that makes me turn into a supernova of anxieties.”
She laughs. “Well, I have an easy cure for that.”
Judging by her expression, I’m not sure why I ask, but I do. “That being?”
“Just think about how big his cock is. I mean, really Wills, have you seen his shoes?”
My mouth drops, and I turn to her in shock. She did not just say that. Here. Anyone could have overheard her. Kane could have heard her. Oh crap, here he comes.
“Hey, Kirby. Settling in just fine, I see. Alessandra looked flawless during her last takes. Even I had a hard time remembering she was just staged to look beaten.”
Kirby responds, but me? My eyes are locked on Kane’s leather clad feet.
Good. God.
“WILLOW?” KANE CALLS OUT ACROSS the parking lot that separates the school’s main building from the makeshift camp of trailers set around the front parking area.
I had been making my way to Kirby’s trailer to grab her small kit so she could touch up some of the shine on the actors behind the camera for the final shot of the day. She had run out of powder during the last take, and unfortunately, Grant left their backup kit behind.
“Yeah?” I ask, turning from the door of the makeup trailer. “Aren’t you supposed to be directing, Mr. Masters?” I smart.
He jogs over and smiles down at me. Even standing two steps off the ground, he’s still taller than I am. “That’s the beauty of being in charge. I call the shots.”
Hmm. His tone makes me think we aren’t just talking about things on set. Going for broke, I ask, “Do you have an affliction for being in charge in all aspects?”
His eyes crinkle, and his smile widens. “Oh, Willow, I think you’ll find that I can be flexible when needed, but if I remember correctly, you enjoy when I call the shots.”
To anyone walking by, one would think we were just discussing the day's filming, but I know exactly to what he’s eluding. I give him a small smile even though I can feel my cheeks heat as a blush warms my skin. “Perhaps.”
He laughs, the low and gritty rumble vibrating from his chest. “We’re almost done today,” he states.
“That we are. It’s been a long day. I’m sure you’re tired.”
He steps closer, up one step so our bodies almost touch. One hand comes up to whisper against my cheek. “Have dinner with me?”
“Dinner? It’s almost nine o’clock at night, Kane.”
“Okay. Look, I’ll be honest here, the meal is an excuse, but I would love to show you around the rest of the filming locations we have set up for the week. I asked catering to have something light prepared for us, and I figured we could enjoy a glass of wine and some conversation before you head back to the house for the night.”
“We have an early day tomorrow, Kane.”
He leans in, smile widening. “I know—I believe I was the one who handed you tomorrow's call sheet requests to hand out.”
“Wine and conversation?”
He nods. “I just want to get to know you better, Willow. Today was a heavy day of emotional filming, and I can tell it affected you. It will be nice to relax and have someone to talk about the film with who seems to get how important this is to me.”
“All right, Mr. Director. You call the shots.” I laugh. “Wine and conversation sounds good to me.” It actually sounds terrifying considering my earlier promise to Kirby to let him in, but I can’t deny the buzz of excitement I feel at the thought of spending some time with him one on one.
“It’s a date,” he utters, leaning down and placing a light caress against my lips with his own.
When he turns and walks back toward the building, my hand comes up to press against my lips. “A date,” I whisper against my fingers. “Holy crap.”