Page 108 of Let’s Make a Scene

“It’s not like we haven’t touched each other,” she continues, taking another step.

She’s so close now that I watch, fascinated, as a pretty spill of pink stains her cheeks.

“Or kissed each other,” she breathes, and the words themselves coast over my own lips.

“I’m not sure I remember,” I murmur.

“We could… remind ourselves,” she whispers. “For the film.”

“Yes,” I agree. “For the film.”

And then I lower my mouth to hers.

She sighs against my lips, her arms coming up around my neck, her whole body softening against mine, every delicious curve pressed to me, and I deepen the kiss, dragging that maddening bottom lip into my mouth, tasting her the way I’ve wanted to for weeks, for months, for years.

There’s no hesitation as we fall into the moment together. Our bodies know each other, her hand coasting over my chest, her tongue brushing against mine. It’s tender, something delicate and sweet, until it’s not. Then there’s a spark that leaps and catches, and suddenly she’s shoving me back against the sofa, straddling my lap.

My arm bands around her waist, pulling her more firmly against me, driving my hips up as she grinds against me, right where I want her. We never break the kiss, hungrily demanding more and more of each other.

I hear myself growl, barely recognize the animalistic noise as coming from me, and she whimpers against my lips, a needy sound that has me growing even harder underneath her. She pushes my shirt up, running her fingers over my stomach, and the muscles there jump at her touch. I want those busy hands everywhere. I want her all over me.

My own fingers slip under the hem of her top, tracing the delicate skin on her back, petal-soft. My hands skim over her, and it dawns on me that she’s not wearing a bra. My entire body hums with approval, but there’s a dim, distant voice in my head that insists things are happening too fast. I had things to say to her. Only now everything is hazy, as the blood pounds in my ears, and her tight little body writhes over me, and I can’t remember my own name, let alone why I wanted to talk. Why would I want to do anything but this? Why would I think about anything but how right she tastes, how perfect she feels?

Her fingers are on the buttons of my shirt, clumsy with haste as she undoes them, pushing it from my shoulders.

“Oh yes,” she whispers, amusement and lust mingled in her voice, a cocktail I want to get drunk on. “I’m starting to remember now.”

“I think I still need a refresher,” I huff, tugging at the hem of her shirt. When I pull it over her head and she’s laid bare, we’re finally skin to skin. The relief is incredible, and I brush my thumb over her nipple. She arches into me with a gasp. I catch her mouth with mine again, and we kiss, slow and filthy.

God, I want to fuck her. I want to take her right now in this trailer.

As she squirms in my lap, starts kissing her way down my neck, I can’t think of a single reason not to. I reach for the buttons on her jeans and she gasps her agreement.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Cynthie?” Brooke’s voice calls. “Are you in there?”

Cynthie jerks back from me, her eyes wide with shock. Her hair is a tangled mess, her mouth pink and swollen.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper.

“Er, just a minute!” Cynthie calls as I try and fail to bundle her back into her T-shirt. “For fuck’s sake, Jack.” Her voice holds a hysterical edge of laughter. “Put your own clothes back on!”

“Right,” I mutter, unable to work out which way my shirt goes, as Cynthie pulls her top on and pushes her fingers hopelessly through her hair, trying to smooth it down.

“Okay?” she asks, after I’ve finished buttoning myself up.

“Yep,” I say, trying to look casual on the sofa.

Cynthie opens the door with a bright smile, and Brooke’s eyes widen in surprise. Unfortunately, the ever-present Declan hovers over her shoulder with his camera.

“Oh, sorry,” Brooke says, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“We were just rehearsing!” Cyn says brightly and then winces, clearly remembering what scene we’re shooting today. “I mean…” she trails off looking desperately to me for help.

Which gives me the opportunity to observe that her T-shirt is on inside out.

“We were going over the argument scene,” I say, gamely stepping in. “We’re shooting it later in the week. Big emotional moment. Lots of prep.”