Acting Up (Center Stage Book 1)

by Adele Buck

  As he began to tease her other breast, he groaned into her skin, feeling her long fingers wrap around his length and stroke gently, teasingly. Up, then down, then gripping tighter and stroking more firmly, using her thumb to swirl the drop of liquid that appeared at the tip.

  Abandoning her nipple, he straightened and framed her face between his palm, kissing her with all the intensity of the sensations she was creating with her hand. No…hands. Her other hand was cradling his balls, squeezing gently and causing his knees to shake.

  “Christ, Cath,” he whispered, pressing kisses to her neck and ear.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “No. Yes. Wait.” He wanted to wail as her hands slid away, then around to his back, pressing him tightly to her. The warmth of her belly didn’t give him the glorious friction of her soft hands, but it did enable him to pull together some remnants of self-control.

  Then she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

  “I want you inside me, Paul.”

  Cath grinned when Paul moaned at her words.

  “You do have a condom in your wallet, don’t you?” Worry pooled in her stomach. Not that there weren’t plenty of other things they could do. But her words had been the truth.

  “Two, in fact,” he said, between kisses. “Then we have to get creative. Unless you have something somewhere.”

  “Two it is, then. For now,” she said, adoring the wicked smile that those words elicited.

  Paul bent to fish his wallet out of his pants and Cath allowed herself to take a long, lingering look at his backside in the shadowed semi-darkness. She was going to enjoy the view much more in the light, she was sure.

  Straightening back up, Paul kissed her again. She could feel the tug of his fingers winding in her hair, supporting her back as he lowered her down to the bed. Cath squirmed upward to get more completely onto the mattress as he rolled the condom on and moved to kneel between her legs.

  “Come here,” Cath murmured, pulling Paul down and kissing him, hanging from his neck as he braced himself on one elbow and stroked between her legs, dipping one finger into her slickness, testing and teasing. “Paul,” she whispered, even as she shuddered with pleasure as he brought his slippery finger to circle her clit.

  “Do you like that?” he murmured, nipping at her lips with his own.

  “You know I do,” she growled, capturing his lower lip in her teeth and giving it a tiny shake. “Now. Inside.” Reduced to single words. Craving the feeling of being filled.

  “Whatever you like. It’s yours.”

  Reaching down, she notched him at her opening and he flexed his hips, sliding in, stretching and filling her. He paused there a moment and she wrapped her legs around him, luxuriating in the feeling of him buried deep inside her, the feel of his skin on hers, his breath fanning her ear. She turned her head to meet his kiss again, tongues and lips echoing the motion of their hips as he began to thrust, her hips rising to meet his long, steady strokes.

  Cath bit her lip as Paul curled one arm behind her shoulders, tension coiling in her as he found a new angle, staying close and rocking his hips into hers. “Good?” he asked as she groaned with pleasure.

  “So good…so. Oh, God, Paul. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Just like that…” Cath felt control slip away as she tucked her hips to meet his, maximizing the friction until the wound-tight feeling sprang apart with an explosive, shuddering wave of pleasure. Cath heard her own wailing cry rip from her throat as if it came from far away.

  Cupping Cath’s face with one hand, Paul took a moment to enjoy the loopy grin spreading across her face. I did that, he thought, his own lips twitching in pleasure and pride. He had almost come himself as she had clenched and rippled around him and he was still balanced on a knife edge, buried deep inside her and waiting for his own release.

  He began to move again, in longer and longer strokes as she wound her arms around him, her hips circling with a sort of relaxed, languid eroticism that pulled him over the edge, all muscles straining as he pushed as deep inside her as he could get, pleasure pulsing through him and depleting him until he slid to lie full-length on top of her, his mouth pressed against her neck and his forehead slick with sweat.

  “Am I too heavy?” he mumbled as he felt her fingers slide into his hair. God that feels good, he thought inanely. He’d just experienced a shattering orgasm and Cath’s fingers running over his head was what he was fixating on? With a mental shrug, he enjoyed the electric feel of her nails gently scratching his scalp, running down his neck, playing along his back.

  “Never too heavy,” Cath murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.

  Rising up on one elbow, he traced the line of her cheekbone with one finger. “Good. Because I’ll be right back.” Anchoring the condom, he pulled out of her with a sense of loss that Cath echoed with a small groan. Disposing of the condom in the bathroom, he washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Opening the door, he was surprised to see Cath standing by the bed.

  “You’re—you’re not leaving are you?” he asked, stomach clenching with unease.

  Walking to him, she laid cool fingers on his cheek and kissed him softly. “No, silly. I’ll be right back.” The door to the bathroom closed behind her and Paul heaved a sigh of relief, turning back the bedclothes and crawling under the sheet.

  When Cath returned, she stood by the bed for a moment, tucking a strand of her long hair behind her ear. The dim light illuminated her lean legs and the slight curve of her breasts.

  “What?” he murmured.

  “Nothing. Just appreciating the moment.”

  “Well, come appreciate next to me.” He pulled her down next to him, kissing her and encouraging her to turn so her back was tucked against his chest. She felt relaxed and warm, fitted perfectly against him. Curling his arm around her waist, he pulled her tight to him. She wrapped a hand around his and raised it to her lips before returning it to her waist. He pressed one last kiss to the back of her neck and fell asleep with his nose buried in her sweet-smelling hair.

  Chapter 14

  Bright light filtered through the trees outside and Cath squinted, rubbing her blurred eyes. Her pillow felt wrong. The room felt wrong. Then memory flooded through her and she froze, almost afraid to turn over.

  What if he regrets it?

  What if I do?

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cath gathered her courage and rolled over to find a pair of twinkling blue eyes regarding her from the other pillow.

  “Hi,” Paul said softly, shifting towards her and raising a hand under the sheet to stroke over her hip.

  “Hi,” she replied, relaxing a fraction, her sudden nervousness leaching out of her with each gentle slide of his palm.

  “You almost looked like you were going to do a runner there for a minute. Were you?”

  Cath shook her head, a strand of hair sliding across her face. Paul looped it behind her ear with a gentle finger. “Good,” he said. “I’d kiss you, but I have morning breath.”

  “So do I,” Cath said. “I should go upstairs and brush my teeth.

  “I have a better idea,” Paul said, sitting up. “Where are your keys?”

  Cath had to think for a moment. “I think I dropped my bag in your living room. When you…when we came in last night.” Raising herself up on one elbow, she let her eyes roam up and down the play of the muscles from Paul’s shoulders, narrowing down his back to his butt as he stood and rummaged in a small chest of drawers.

  Yup. I knew I would enjoy that view in the daylight.

  “You mean when I pushed you up against the door?” Turning, he caught her looking at him and winked before tugging on a pair of gym shorts. Circling the bed, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. His hair spiked into an adorable festival of bed-head. “Back in a minute.”

  Cath watched in a sort of haze as he walked out of the bedroom. She heard him rummage for her keys and leave the apartment. Sliding to her back, she stared at the ceiling, hearing him make his way
upstairs, enter her apartment, and walk through to the bathroom. Good grief, he really can hear everything from down here. Casting her mind over the days since they had moved to Churchill, Cath was grateful that her life had been so quiet.

  The footsteps padded back across her apartment floor and within another minute Paul was in the doorway lofting her toothbrush in one hand and her blue bathrobe, which he must have noticed hanging on the back of the bathroom door, in the other. He looked so proud of himself and so absurd. Cath collapsed in helpless laughter.

  The sight of Cath in his bed, face alight with humor, seemed to uncap a fizzing geyser of emotion in Paul. He wanted to shout, ring bells, or at the least, gather Cath into his arms and kiss her. But first things first.

  “Here,” he said, handing her the toothbrush and laying the robe across the foot of the bed. “I thought I might be able to lure you to hang around longer if you had something to cover up in. Not that I’m encouraging you to cover up…”

  Cath swatted at him with the toothbrush, her cheeks reddening, and stalked off to the bathroom.

  But she didn’t grab the robe.

  Paul grinned as the bathroom door closed softly behind her and picked up their clothes from the floor, locating his wallet with the second condom under the bed. He heard the water shut off and looked over when the bathroom door started to open. Cath stepped out, pushing her hair off her forehead, smiling shyly at him as she walked over to the bed and slid into it again. Paul blinked and remembered that the sooner he brushed his own teeth the sooner he could pull that sheet down and take in the view of her long, strong legs, the gentle curve of her ass and breasts, the softly defined muscles of her back and belly.

  Managing to clean his teeth, strip off his shorts, and climb into bed fast enough that he made Cath laugh again, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her on top of him, lips and tongue reacquainting in a long, luxuriant kiss that tasted of toothpaste and morning sunshine.

  Cath pulled back a bit, her face hovering over his, a slight smile playing at her lips.

  “What are you thinking?” Paul asked, that emotional geyser starting to bubble up at the look in her eyes.

  “Just that…I don’t know. I know your face so well, but never this close. It’s so different and…familiar at the same time.”

  “I know what you mean,” he murmured. “My best friend. My collaborator. Now my lover.”

  Cath’s eyes narrowed in humor. “How do you do that? Anyone else saying that would sound silly.”

  “What?” Paul propped an arm behind his head.

  “Lover.” Cath over-enunciated the word with a flourish. “So often that sounds so pretentious. How do you manage to say it as if it was the most natural thing in the world?”

  “Mmm. ‘I love having a lover and being one. The insularity of passion. I love it. I love the way it blurs the distinction between everyone who isn’t one’s lover. Only two kinds of presence in the world. There’s you and there’s them.’”

  “The Real Thing,” Cath said. “You really mean that?”

  “I always mean it when I quote Stoppard. But kiss me if you want to be sure,” he said, lifting his eyebrows encouragingly.

  Laughing, Cath complied, her lips brushing his teasingly at first, then angling her head to enable a deep, lush kiss that made Paul’s cock surge to attention. When she pulled back, Paul could see her pupils were dilated, black spreading across the green. She blinked and smiled when she felt his hands slide down her back, then circle around her ribcage to brush over her breasts. Paul felt her nipples stiffen under his fingers and Cath’s smile grew dreamy as a flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck.

  Cath luxuriated in the sensations of Paul’s lips on hers, his fingers on her breasts, teasing and arousing. His hands skated lower to her hips, encouraging her to straddle him. Leaning forward as she pulled her leg over him, she realized her hair was spilling all around his head, curtaining their faces, creating shifting shade on the planes of his face in the morning light.

  “We have our own private tent in here,” she said, her lips curving.

  “That we do,” he said, using a finger to move some of the long strands to one side and squinting through the gap. “Eek. Outside world looks nasty.” He allowed her hair to fall back and using the same finger to trace her lips. “Best to stay in here.”

  “You nut.” Nuzzling his neck, she was gratified to hear his long inhalation. Nibbling gently up to his ear, the inhale turned into a hiss. She hummed and sucked gently on his earlobe, then shrieked and laughed as he growled and rolled on top of her.

  “You thought you had me at your mercy?” he asked, loosely pinning her wrists over her head.

  Cath looked at him speculatively.

  “What are you up to?” Paul asked, a smile starting in his eyes.

  “Mmm.” Winding her legs around his hips, she pulled him down on top of her, grinding against him.

  Paul’s eyes closed and his mouth opened slightly in a moan. “Oh. Yeah. You definitely have me at your mercy.” Releasing her wrists, he reached for the condom on the bedside table. Holding it up, he said, “Last one. Then we have to brave the outside world.”

  “Let’s burn that bridge when we get to it.” Cath plucked the condom package from his fingers and ripped it open. Tossing the wrapper aside, she rolled it on slowly, enjoying the subtle play of expressions on Paul’s face as her fingers slowly smoothed it onto his shaft.

  “You’re a very wicked woman, Catherine De Courcy,” Paul murmured as she positioned him and tilted her hips, encouraging him to thrust deeply.

  “Is that a complaint, Mr. Mainwaring?”

  “No,” he grunted, rolling Cath on top of him again.

  Cath closed her eyes, concentrating on synchronizing her hips with Paul’s as she rode him. Peeking down at his face, she saw him bring his thumb to his mouth, wetting it. Closing her eyes again, she felt it slide across her clit, circling and rubbing. Cath bit her lip, feeling the coiling pressure inside her start to build.

  Paul grinned as he watched Cath’s face respond to his touch. He hadn’t seen enough last night. The dim light had given him sensation but no sight of the moment when Cath had come apart in his arms, exploding with pleasure.

  This morning he was going to feel it and see it.

  Cath shifted her hips, seeking a slightly different angle, and Paul adjusted his touch, following her. A low keening was building in Cath’s throat and a flush of heat and pleasure had spread across her chest. Paul stroked her hip with his free hand, murmuring low.

  “Are you close?”

  She nodded jerkily. He could feel her tense around him, every muscle in her body keyed up tight. He was going to go over the edge before she did at this rate. He moved his thumb more quickly, flicking more rapidly and Cath inhaled a huge, shuddering breath and wailed, her voice a wordless, ragged cry, her face the picture of ecstatic release.

  The feel of her body spasming around him, shuddering, rippling, and squeezing, shattered what was left of his self-control and he gripped her hips, thrusting up into her as she held his shoulders and met his strokes. His orgasm ripped through him, a hurricane of pleasure that left him wrung out and limp. Cath draped over his chest, both of them breathing heavily.

  “Am I too heavy for you?” she teased, nipping his ear.

  “Never,” he said, too relaxed to return tease for tease, electing instead to stroke her hair with one hand, the other resting on her hip. “How come your hair is so soft, Cath?”

  “It’s just straight. And fine. And lifeless.”

  “Shh. It’s soft. Like this long…curtain of silk,” he said, stroking the strands that went halfway down her back.

  Soft lips pressed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He turned his head and squinted at her, too close to see clearly.

  She raised herself on one elbow, saving him from having to go cross-eyed. “For making me feel almost pretty for a moment,” she said.

  “That�
��s a rather lot of bullshit coming from a beautiful woman, right there,” he said, frowning.

  Cath’s mouth skewed to one side, regarding him with skepticism.

  “You think this is just about wanting sex?” Paul asked, his brows drawing together.

  “No,” Cath said, “If I did, it wouldn’t have happened. It’s just…I don’t know.”

  Paul took a deep breath. “How about we table this and get some breakfast?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  Scrubbed and smiling, Cath practically skipped down the stairs from her apartment, feeling almost overdressed in a deep green scoop-neck tee shirt and shorts after spending so much time with Paul wearing nothing at all. She had expected to have to knock on Paul’s door, but when she rounded the landing, she saw he was waiting for her in the hallway. His hair was flattened and damp, and he had an anticipatory smile that made her toes curl inside her sneakers as she paused.

  “There’s my best girl,” he said as she bounced down the last few stairs.

  Cath winced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The possessive thing. Never mind. No big deal. It’s a reflex with me,” she said.

  “Only a figure of speech. Do you prefer I not use it?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know.” Cath shrugged. “I…You know my history. Possession feels like control. I’ve just never liked feeling hemmed in, like someone could own me or control me. In any way.”