Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)(48)

And maybe, in his eyes reflecting back at me, I can see a little of what he sees in me. His mouth descends on mine once again, this time gentler, just a brush of lips on lips. I want to cling to him, to force the kiss deeper, to feel his hands on every part of me, but he leans away once again, as if he knows the wild direction of my thoughts.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Olivia.” His brows knit. “I’m leaving,” he reminds me again.

“Now?” I ask, confused, my blissed-out brain unable to process anything but him kissing me again.

He smiles, but it’s bittersweet. “No, not now. Tomorrow. I have to go back to LA.”

At this moment, I don’t care about the future.

“I know this is just for tonight. But it’s okay.” My hand shakes as I touch his chest. “I want to be with you, if that’s what you want. It’s just that I don’t know what to do,” I say, feeling inept.

“Are you… You’re not a …” He doesn’t finish, but I know what he’s asking, and I wish I could avoid this conversation.

I blush deep and look away. “It’s not a big deal.” Feeling like a freak, I shift, putting a little space between us. “It’s not like I’m saving myself or something. And I’ve done things, just never that thing. It seemed like something I’d do with a boyfriend, but I’ve never dated anyone for long enough to feel that comfortable. I know you’re not my boyfriend,” I rush out, not wanting him to think I’m clingy or deluded. “But it’s way past time to get it over with.” I shrug, trying for a casual smile and failing. “And I’d like it to be with you.”

His expression scorches my nerve endings. “Olivia, it is a big deal,” he insists. “Quick and casual is not who you are or what you deserve. Especially not for your first time.”

“Thanks for telling me who I am. I wasn’t sure,” I mutter, annoyed now. “And thanks for mansplaining my virginity.”

I want to argue further, insist it’s my choice, but I’ve had enough rejection for one month. I’m not going to beg. I sit up and push my hair out of my face, straightening my clothes.

He reaches for me and pulls me back down to him. My breath comes out in a squeak, and I find myself face-to-face with a fierce-looking Chase. It’s a good look for him. Let’s be real; all his looks are good.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi.” His lips quirk. “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you. But we were having a nice time. At least, I was. And I’m pretty sure you were. Let’s just watch the movie and not worry about anything else.”

“You want to watch the movie?” I ask dubiously.

“And…other things. Just not that thing.” He flashes me a teasing grin as he echoes my earlier words.

“What kinds of other things?”

“Kissing things.”

I nod slowly. “Any other things?”

He shakes his head. “Too dangerous. You’re not good for my sanity or my control.”

Heat blankets some of my annoyance. I love the idea that I might make him lose control because he does the exact thing to me. A naughty impulse inspires me to brush against him. He’s still rock-hard, and I feel better about his rejection of other things. He’s not lying about wanting me. My fingers want to linger there, feel the steely strength, but he grasps my hand and gently pulls me away from his cock. Fire burns in his eyes.

“Careful, love.”

I melt at the word and the rough, desperate rasp of his voice.

“So, we just kiss?”

He nods. “Like in high school. Those long make-out sessions.”

“I didn’t really have them.”

He thinks about it. “Actually, me neither.”

I narrow my eyes. “Somehow, I can’t believe you didn’t make out with girls in high school.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. Just that we weren’t confined to kissing.” His laugh is wicked.

I punch him, and he laughs harder, grabbing my hand. He pulls our joined hands up above me on the couch and twists us in one smooth move. I lie on the sofa, looking up at him, and he looms over me with a seductive promise.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask.

“You have to tell me what you want,” he taunts.

I lick my lips and try to form the words.

“You,” I murmur. “Only you.”

This is the moment I know for sure that some risks are worth everything.





CHAPTER 19





Chase



High school sucks.

Making out with Olivia is paradise, but stopping before we go too far? That’s torture.

We’re on the couch, the movie long since forgotten, kissing like the world will end tomorrow. We alternate between a desperate fusion of mouths, teeth clacking, tongues thrusting; and long, lazy, sensual explorations.

Younger me would say we make it somewhere between first and second base. Hell, I give her a damn hickey, something I don’t think I’ve ever done, even as a teen. But I’m territorial about Olivia in a way I’ve never been about anyone else. I want to mark her, a brand to announce that she’s mine.

I try to keep my hands in safe zones, but I can’t help skimming her side, dipping into her cleavage, and when she begs me, I give us both relief by palming her full breasts and rubbing her nipples. I memorize the sweet sounds she makes when I touch them, my tongue in her mouth, my body covering hers. I want to worship at the altar of her curves. To suck, to lick, to tease, to do every dirty thing to them. I grind against her, my dick rock-hard, and she pushes back, assuaging the ache at the center of her. I’ve never been more turned on, and if we keep at this much longer, I’ll embarrass myself in my jeans.