I watch as she slurs out her lines and he nails Aaron’s. Every passing second sobers me more and more. He’s a natural, no, he’s more than a natural. He’s good, like, already better than most actors who have talent and have trained for years. I watch as he effortlessly reads through the lines, portraying the right emotions and adding his own unique take on each line as if he was born to fill the role. He’s not pretending. He’s not acting. He’s just… I don’t know how to describe it.
I think maybe he’s so good at it because a man like him has no need to be false or ingenuine. So when he reads the lines, every word rings true. I’m rapt in complete fascination while I watch, noticing that even Kennedy is starting to seem more and more sober. She’s glancing up at him, forgetting to control her face between lines when she watches him deliver powerful line after powerful line.
They reach the moment of the kiss, and Kennedy’s eyebrows are pulled together, her face far more full of desire than it would be in a simple walk-through. She wants to kiss him, for real. Of course she does. He’s stiff now, on the verge of pulling back, but I can’t take it. I can’t wait to see if he’s going to stop her from kissing him or if he’s going to do it.
“Stop!” I say quickly, only realizing I’ve stood after I spoke and both of them are looking at me. I realize at the same moment I spoke, Jesse was turning his head away from her.
Kennedy laughs a little nervously. It’s as if his flawless performance had cast the room in a thick sheen of fantasy, and for those moments, everything that happened would only be happening within the story. It wasn’t real. But something cut through the bundle of confusion in my mind when I watched Kennedy leaning in to kiss him. I may have pushed him away last night. I may still be angry with him. And I may never completely forgive him, but I’m not ready to watch him be with someone else, no matter how selfish of me that is.
“Well, maybe I should be going anyway,” says Kennedy. “It’s pretty late.”
I glance at the clock and realize it’s nearly midnight. “Wow. Yeah. We should all get some sleep. We’re shooting early tomorrow for the sunrise scene.”
Kennedy grabs her coat and winks at me over her shoulder. She mouths something at me that looks an awful lot like “fuck him”. I try not to blush as I practically push her out the door. It closes behind her and Jesse moves close beside me to lock up. The silence that follows makes me painfully aware it’s only us in the room.
“You’re amazing,” I say. My words hang in the silence long enough for me to wish I could rephrase. “I mean those lines. You’ve never acted before?”
He laughs. “No. That was a first. I thought it might be the best way to get you two off my back. I guess I was wrong.”
I rub the back of my head, feeling dizzy from the wine. “I’m sorry about that. Stopping you, I mean. I just…”
“From kissing Kennedy?” he asks. “I wasn’t going to kiss her.”
“You weren’t?” I ask, letting too much of the excitement I feel slip into my words.
He smirks, catching it. “No. I was hoping to kiss someone else.”
My heart pounds in my chest. I can’t seem to take a breath deep enough to fill my lungs as I look up into his gorgeous eyes. I take in his hard, sculpted features and the cocky set of his mouth. Looking at his lips was a mistake because all I can think of now is whether they still taste as good. It has been ten years since I last kissed him, and I’ve never even came close to finding a substitute. Kissing him now surely wouldn’t live up to the memory though.
“Who?” I whisper. “Who were you hoping to kiss?”
His hand cups my cheek and I melt into it, eyes devouring him, inviting him. A kiss. It’s a small thing. A simple thing. It’s harmless.
He looks down. “My client. But I don’t get involved with clients.”
“Then don’t get involved,” I breathe. “Just kiss me. Don’t make me beg.”
When he looks up his green eyes practically burn with heat. I bite my lip as I reach for the back of his neck, urging him to bend down and kiss me. He attacks my mouth with his, kissing me hard at first, as if he can’t hold back his desire, as if the kiss has been building inside him for all these years and now that it’s finally free. It’s wild and out of control, limitless and brimming with pent up desire and need. I kiss him back just as intensely, feeling the emotions that have been held up within my heart all this time flowing through me, electrifying every movement of his lips against mine and the flick of his hot tongue inside my mouth.
I breathe him in, loving the manly scent of him, marveling at how it’s exactly as I remembered as it swirls around me, bathing me in him. He’s pinning me to the wall with the weight of his hard body, hands clutching fistfulls of my thick hair. I feel the full length of his cock pressing into my belly and I shamelessly push myself more firmly against him, relishing in the sensation of it. My breasts pillow between us and my body begs for friction. Resisting the urge to wrap my legs around his hips and grind into him is impossible. I dig my fingers into his broad back, feeling the moment spiral out of control.
I feel every last ounce of resolve I had to take things slow melting away. All that’s left is memory, nostalgia, and a white-hot, mind-searing need. A need to be held by him and to hold him back, to soothe away the pain that has scarred him since we’ve been apart, and a more basic, primal need to have him inside me, to let him claim me and mark me, to be wanted by a man so powerful and strong.
I reach for his cock and he suddenly goes stiff, entire body growing rigid, unyielding. His lips fall still and I’m forced to pull back, searching his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve had too much to drink, Kay. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
“I’m sober enough,” I say, hating that he’s making me beg.
He shakes his head. “It’s not a good idea. I can’t let myself get distracted and compromise your safety.”
I grit my teeth, all the desire and lust pulsing through my body suddenly turning into anger. I know he wants this, and I’ve put myself out there to show him I want it too. And he’s seriously going to discard me again? It hurts. God it hurts. I mask the pain with a wall of thick anger that blocks everything else out.
“I need to use the restroom,” I say.
He sighs and walks off toward the kitchen. I hear himself pouring a glass of something, probably liquor for himself.