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Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)(55)

Author:Sarah Deeham

He groans, and I realize just how much he’d been holding back. His hands pull me tight. One fists in my hair, the other molds my hips to his, and his mouth—oh, that wicked mouth—is sure and certain. Whereas my kisses were tentative, lips on lips, tongue barely tasting, his kisses claim and conquer. I open for him fully, luring him inside, and our tongues meet in long, luxurious strokes.

Our hips shift into each other in an aching approximation of what might come next. We’re aligned in such a way that I’m left with no doubt that he wants this, wants me. I may be a virgin, but I’m not completely innocent. I’ve been kissed before, just never like this. I’ve never been kissed in a way that lights up my whole body, in a way that makes me ache and burn and feel like I’d die for the fire to come. After what may have been a minute or an hour, he breaks free, panting, his forehead resting on mine.

He brushes back my hair with reverence. “You’re so damn lovely.”

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.

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