“When was the last time you saw a movie?” he asked as I took his hand.
He led us into the darkened theater, and I blew out a breath. Every seat in the place was empty. Just like he’d said. “I stream at home all the time,” I answered him, my eyes wide as I took in the vacant, windowless space. “You rented out the entire theater?”
“Of course, I did,” he answered like it was the most obvious solution in the world. He motioned to a couple of seats in the front row—floor seats, close to both exits. God, I might’ve fallen for him just a little for that gesture alone.
But I couldn’t. Because this…this wasn’t a date. This was two colleagues working out a mutual agreement in order to better our careers. He cooperated and improved his image for his first season back with the Reapers, and I nailed my first major assignment from Langley. Win-win.
Colleagues who sometimes kissed in intense and severe situations. And I was sure the kiss had just been another day in the life of Jansen Sterling for him, but for me? It had shaken awake something inside of me I’d never felt before. An all-consuming hunger. A tingling ache I couldn’t soothe myself.
“When was the last time?” he asked again as I settled into the leather seat next to him. The giant screen flared to life, illuminating the room with upcoming attractions.
“Sixteen,” I said, wringing my hands. I tried to force myself not to think about the thick, dark walls. The lack of exterior air. How hard it would be to get out if there had been a crowd of people here.
“I thought the claustrophobia started younger than that?”
“It did,” I said, not wanting to rehash that particular memory with him again. “But my high school boyfriend at the time, didn’t take it seriously. He knew about it, but not in a way that gave him any real insight to what it would put me through.” I sighed. “He said he had a surprise for me, and when we ended up at the theater, I was shocked. My panic flared, but he goaded me into going. A ton of his friends were there, and I didn’t want to make a scene, so he tugged me inside, forced me to sit in the very top row, and…” My chest tightened at the memory. The way I’d had to run out of the place, nearly falling down the full flight of stairs as I did. The way I’d sat outside, tucked against the building’s brick wall, tears streaming down my face as I tried and failed to get my body to stop shaking. “I didn’t really see much of the movie,” I said.
Sterling’s eyes were sincere as they met mine. “You know we can leave whenever you need to,” he said, and I nodded.
I did know that.
Somehow, I knew Sterling would never push me like my ex did.
“You seem to be doing pretty well already,” he added, that smirk shaping his lips. “The previews are over, and you look downright calm.”
I huffed a laugh, forcing my hands to the armrests instead of wringing them out again. I wasn’t close to calm, but I wasn’t barreling down the freeway to an attack either.
Baby steps.
And with Jansen at my side? It didn’t seem such a lonely, dark place to be.
Thirty minutes into the movie, I couldn’t concentrate. My knee bounced lightly, and I shifted my position about a dozen times. It wasn’t that the movie was bad, in fact, it was super interesting with great acting and a tight plot. And it wasn’t exactly the dark walls bothering me either.
It was Jansen.
His laugh, the way his bicep brushed against my arm, or his thigh pressed lightly into mine. God, maybe I was back in high school, crushing on the hot jock who made me laugh. I might as well be with how my thoughts were racing. Flashing from the way the theater made me feel, and then how he made me feel. The two emotions clashing in a battle that threatened to make me scream.
The theater being empty helped a ton with me being able to control the dark thoughts that tried to squeeze their way into my mind. I felt that slightly trapped sensation, but I knew I could get out of this room because no one would be in my way when rushing for the door. That alone should have allowed me to relax enough to enjoy the movie, but every time Jansen moved or laughed or breathed I caught his scent, felt the electric crackles from his accidental touch, and basically did somersaults inside.
His kiss replayed over and over so much that I soon had no clue what was happening on the screen.
And I just…didn’t care.
I wanted.
Like, full-on, can’t breathe without touching him, wanted.
The sensation was so new and exhilarating I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t remind myself of all the reasons why I shouldn’t, why we couldn’t…
“You okay, London?” Sterling whispered, his lips close to my ear. Warm chills burst along the skin of my neck.
I turned my head, my eyes locking with his. “I don’t know,” I admitted, my eyes flashing from his lips to his eyes and back again. God, I was practically writhing in my seat.
He shifted toward me, his focus fully on me now. “We can go,” he said. “You say the word.” He gently laid his strong, warm hands over my forearms, the gesture both comforting and igniting at the same damn time.
Just. Like. Him.
“London?” he asked, arching a brow when I hadn’t said anything. Something crackled behind his blue gaze, some awareness as he realized how close our faces were, how my body was turned toward his, how I hadn’t pulled away at his sudden nearness. “Tell me what you need,” he said, his voice taking on a gravely tone that did things to my body.
Yep.
I wanted more of that.
In a blink, I succumbed to the drumming, pounding, pulsing need in my body—ignoring the pleas of my rational mind and simply…being.
My hands flew to his neck, and I yanked his mouth to mine. He came willingly, a low growl rumbling in his chest from the contact. I fisted his shirt, holding him close while I crushed my lips against his, holding absolutely nothing back.
And when he jerked back the armrest between us? Snaking an arm around my waist to haul me to him?
I saw stars.
7
Sterling
Holy shit, London was kissing me. I shoved the armrest between our seats up, then gripped her hips and tugged, pulling her onto my lap so I could get closer.
There wasn’t a close enough when it came to this woman. I had the feeling that I could drive my tongue, my fingers, my cock deep inside her body and still wouldn’t be satisfied until I reached her soul.
She gasped as my tongue sank deep inside the sweet recess of her mouth, and she swung her knee over my thigh, straddling me.
Fuck yes. It had been a week since we’d been at the amusement park, and I’d been dreaming about this moment ever since. She wasn’t scared or in the throes of a panic attack. She wasn’t looking for a diversion or a distraction.
She’d kissed me because she’d wanted to, and if the way she settled in my lap and rocked her hips over mine was any indication—she was as into this as I was.
I speared my hands through the long, silken strands of her hair to cradle her head, then kissed her breathless, stroking my tongue against hers. She tasted just as sweet as I remembered, just as addictive, and I was hooked.
“London,” I groaned against her lips.
“I love kissing you,” she admitted in a rushed whisper before sucking on my lower lip and wrapping her arms around my neck.
Damn, that felt good.
I kissed her hard and long until we were both panting. “You have no idea how badly I want to put my hands on you.”
“So put your hands on me.” She tugged at my hair, urging my mouth back to hers, and I followed willingly, sinking into her mouth and abandoning another degree of my restraint.
She gasped when I set my lips to her neck, and the sound went straight to my dick, taking me from the semi I always seemed to have around her, to fully, painfully hard. I kissed down her throat and across her collarbone, nudging the material of her blouse out of the way so I could worship her skin with my mouth.
Her hips ground over mine again,
the pleasure of it making me moan as I palmed her waist with one hand and tugged on her hair with the other, exposing more of that gorgeous neck.
“What are you doing to me?” She moaned as I sucked on the little section of her skin where her neck met her shoulders.
“What does it feel like I’m doing to you, London?” My hand slid to the curve of her hip.
“Driving me wild.” Her grip tightened in my hair. “You make me feel…”
“What?” I prompted when she trailed off.
We locked eyes as the light around us flickered with the motion on the big screen. I’d chosen some romcom to keep her laughing just in case the theater triggered an attack, but I’d been too focused on her to remotely pay attention to the plot. Besides, everything I cared about was in my arms right now.
She bit her lower lip, and I leaned in and sucked it free.
“I make you feel what?” I asked again, gripping her hips and pulling her closer.
She sucked in a breath at the contact as my dick lined up with the seam of her pants. Thank fuck she wasn’t in a skirt. Her pants gave us one more barrier just in case my cock actually punched through the fabric of my jeans just like it was threatening to.
“Needy,” she whispered. “Hot. Reckless.” Her gaze dropped to my lips. “I’ve never been the reckless type, Jansen, but I swear you kiss all my common sense away.”
“Reckless, huh?” I grinned. London and reckless were two words I never would have paired, but I was all for it.
She nodded, and then we were kissing again, hotter and deeper than before. There was an urgency to it, a desperation as it became an openly carnal exchange. She slipped her hands under my shirt and traced the lines of my abs, my pecs, her fingers softer than the kiss of a butterfly’s wings.
“Fuck, London,” I growled. The feel of her hands on my skin sent my pulse skyrocketing. “Tell me what you want.” Was it a consent thing? Absolutely. But damn, if I didn’t want to hear that prim little mouth say something dirty.
“I…” She swallowed. “I want you to touch me.”
“Good, because I really fucking want to touch you.” I pulled her into another kiss, then lifted a hand to the swell of her breast, palming the exquisite mound and squeezing gently. “Like this?”
“God, yes.” She rocked against me, pushing her breast into my hand and the juncture of her thighs against my cock.
My dick jumped at the feel of how hot she was through layers of fabric between us. Settle the hell down. You’re not going to fuck her in a movie theater.
London deserved better—if she even wanted to go there with me. She deserved candles and roses and a fucking bed. Yet here she was, rolling her hips over mine as I flicked open the first button on her blouse, then the second.
I kept my gaze locked on hers as my hand swept inside her shirt, then her bra, until there was nothing between her flesh and my fingers. She nodded, then groaned when I tweaked the bud, rolling and pinching.
“Fuck, I want to taste you,” I groaned, leaning in to kiss her neck. Getting my hands on her in this theater was one thing, but there was no chance I was exposing her skin to anyone who might walk in. Mine.
“Jansen,” she moaned, her hips rocking faster. “You’re setting me on fire. I need…I need…” Her hips shifted over mine, her body telling me exactly what she needed.
“What do you need?” I plucked her nipple, and she cried out, the sound swallowed by the sound of the movie.
“More.” She gripped the back of my head and brought it to her breast.
Fuck it. Her blouse could keep her covered as long as I was careful. I lifted her breast from the cup of her bra, then angled the opening of her shirt and sucked the pearled peak between my lips.
“Jansen!” She urged me on, holding my head as my tongue lashed at her hard, swollen nipple, alternating sweet strokes with hard sucks.
My dick leapt, pulsing in time with my heartbeat as I worked one breast, then the other, until she was heavy and swollen in my hands. If she had me this turned on by touch alone, what was it going to be like when I had her under me? When I could see her laid out beneath me like an offering?
She ground against my dick, seeking the friction she needed, and she gasped when I thrust back against her. “Again,” she demanded.
I rocked my hips, and she moaned.
“You’re killing me,” I groaned testing her nipple with my teeth.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this.” She cupped my face, and I released her breast so I could look into those gorgeous eyes. They were glazed with lust, but there was also an element of wonder there.
“Feel like what?” I palmed her ass and squeezed.
“Like I’ll die if you don’t touch me. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.” She swirled her hips, and I nearly saw stars. Fuck, the woman was going to make me come without even touching my cock.
“I am touching you,” I said with a kiss, sliding my hands back to her hips.
“Here.” She gripped one of my wrists and put my fingers right between her fucking thighs.
“London. God, baby.”
“Please,” she begged.
The plea broke whatever was left of my sense of chivalry. If she wanted me to touch her, then fuck yes. At least one of us could get some relief.
I undid the button of her pants and slid the zipper down while she nodded her encouragement, resting her forehead against mine. Then I took her mouth in a hot, wet kiss, and sent my fingers down the smooth skin of her tight stomach, pushing past the silk barrier of her panties and into the scorching heat of her.
“Fuck, baby. You’re soaking wet.” She coated my fingers, all hot and slick as I dipped to her entrance.
She whimpered, bracing her hands on my shoulders and digging in with her sharp little nails. I wanted her to grab harder, to leave marks so when we left this theater, I knew this had actually happened, and I wasn’t in just another dream.
I stroked her from entrance to clit, swirling over that little bundle of nerves with two fingers.
The sound of her whimper was enough to fuel my fantasies for the next month. She was so incredibly responsive, so honest in her needs and wants that I lost myself in the act of pleasuring her. I’d always been about mutual enjoyment when it came to the bedroom, but I’d never been so focused, so driven to get someone off the way I was with London.
My entire body burned with the need to see her come apart, to be the one that took her to that edge and pushed her over it.
I rolled my fingers over her clit, stroking and teasing the flesh, then I slid to her entrance and sank two fingers inside her. My kiss swallowed her cry as she clenched around me.
She was so fucking tight that she gripped my fingers like a vise as I stroked in and out of her, fucking her mouth at the same rhythm with my tongue, slow and deep. Her thighs tensed around my legs as she rode my hand, and I pressed the heel of my palm hard against her clit so she ground against it.
“Jansen!” She broke the kiss with a gasp as her muscles locked, then trembled.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” I whispered. “So hot and tight around my fingers, London. Come for me.” I curled my fingers inward slightly and thrust faster, sending her into the throes of an orgasm.
She screamed, but I caught it with a kiss as she came apart over and over. I stroked her through, bringing her down slowly until she shuddered one last time and went limp against me.
“What the hell was that?” she mumbled into my neck, the last word breaking when I slid my fingers from the warmth of her pussy.
“Never had an orgasm before?” I teased, my fingers shaking slightly as I managed to button her pants and zip her up. Fuck, I was a mess. My heart was racing, and my breathing sounded like I’d just run a fucking marathon.
Get some control, Sterling.
“Not with a guy,” she muttered, then yanked her head up, her eyes flying wide. “I mean, not with a girl, either. Not that there’s anything wrong with girls wh
o do, of course. I just prefer men. Well, prefer you.”
I smiled and brushed my thumb over her lip.
“Never?” How the hell was that possible? London was traffic-stopping beautiful, whip-smart, and had a body that begged to be stroked.
“Never.” She shook her head slowly.
“Seriously?” It had to be asked. I couldn’t imagine anyone getting London under their hands and not spending hours figuring out exactly what made her body purr.
“I’ve dated—I’m not a nun or anything, but I’ve never wanted like that.” She looped her arms around my neck. “You, however, I wanted in the elevator. You probably could have pushed me against the wall, and I would have climbed you like a ladder.” Her eyebrows rose.
A slow smile spread across my face. “Then we would have been in perfect agreement. Not sure it would have looked too good once the guys got the doors open, though.”
She huffed a laugh and stroked her fingers through the ends of my hair.
My mind started tripping all over itself at the thought of feeling her come again and again. Next time I’d do it with my tongue and lips, and if it freaked her out too much to feel restrained, she could ride my fucking face all night long. My dick screamed in agreement.
“What?” she asked softly, looking at me with a slight wrinkle of confusion.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just planning all the different ways I’m going to make you come.” After my mouth, I’d use my cock when she was ready. How many times could I get her there if I had all night with her?
Before she could react, the credits rolled, and the lights came up in the theater.
“Um. How did you like the movie?” she asked, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
“Best show of my life.”
It was.
Sterling: A Carolina Reapers Novel Page 8