All The Pretty Lights (The "A" List #1) (10 page)

Plopping down close to her, I rest my arm along the back of the sectional. “Let’s just say, it’s not a good thing.”

Her eyes widen. “Why? I love TIME COP. I’d love to see a sequel. So would millions of other people, I’m sure.”

I’ve read enough of the script before she got here, to know which scene to use, as I sift through the pile of read pages to retrieve it. “Oh? Let’s see if you feel the same way after you see the script. Here,” I place the five pages I need on her knees and lean over so we can share them. “You’re Sierra, I’m Faulkner. We’re in a time machine, whizzing through the ages, running from the mad scientist who’s trying to steal it from us.”

Saying it aloud sounds just as ridiculous as it sounds when read in the scene description above the dialogue. Daphne giggles. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am.” I swig what’s left of my whiskey and refill the glass, this time handing it to her. I keep the bottle for myself, “Here, you’ll need this.”

She takes the tumbler, eyeing me to see how serious I am about the need for alcohol to get through this. I point to the line on the page where we’ll start. It’s her line, well actually, it’s Audrey’s line. She clears her throat.

“I don’t care where we go, Faulk. I don’t care if it’s the stone ages, or before there were even people. As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter.” I give her acting a sold B. Not too bad for a novice.

I get into character, shifting to sit closer to her. My hand falls to rest naturally on her cheek, caressing the soft skin in a small circle. “I can’t ask you to do that, Sierra. I can’t ask you to give everything up for me. This is your life, your time, where you belong.”

My eyes lock with hers, pooling deep. I move my lips closer so that they’re nearly gliding against hers as I speak. I feel her light, warm, breath. I feel the thudding of her heartbeat under the pads of my fingers.

I can tell she’s in the moment, feeling the emotion woven in my words. She’s quiet. I argue with myself whether or not to kiss her, to take her once and for all. No. Not like this. Not pretending to be someone else. I want her to want
me
, not some stupid character.

I clear my throat. “Your line.”

She snaps to attention as if she were in a daze. “Oh. Um… No! I belong with
you
Faulk! Wherever you are is where I belong. Take me away, take me anywhere. I’m yours.”

I feel her chest rise and fall against me as I’m pressed in close. I feel my dick grow and ache in my jeans. I know I’m acting, I know
she’s
acting, but just hearing her say the words that she’s mine is doing things to me that even the greatest actor in the world couldn’t disguise.

In this moment, watching the words pass her lips, I realize how, more than anything, I want to hear her say them for real. I want her.

“The first time I saw you, I knew you were a whirlwind. A tornado. Strong, powerful, earth shattering. I thought it would be enough to just stand back and watch from a distance. But it’s not. You’ve sucked me in and I can’t get out, I don’t want to. I know it’ll probably kill me, feeling this much, but, I can think of worse ways to die.” I tilt my chin, positioning myself perfectly to take her lips when it’s time.

There’s a fluttering behind me as Daphne lifts up the sheet of paper to read over my shoulder. “Th-that’s not in the script…”

I smile, letting my hand trail down to her neck, teasing the delicate skin beneath her hair. “No. It’s not.”

“Oh.” She sucks in. “
Oh…
”

She initiates the kiss, sweet, tender, full of pent-up emotion, and releasing the sexual tension that’s been building under the surface for the last few days. Her lips are softer than ever, the sweet tingling of her tongue sends small electric shocks through my body, and I take every drop of the very romantic movements she makes.

“That’s not in the script,” I whisper playfully. I inch back to find her eyes, to gauge them, to see how serious she is about this, about where I want it to go.

“No.” She whispers, kissing my top lip seductively. “It’s not.”

Moving to my bottom lip, she takes it between hers. No script. No characters. Just her and I.

She’s ignited a flame, consenting, and now it’s about to turn into a full-on blaze. I pull her body swiftly to sit over me, her knees falling into place on either side, straddling. The simple, sweet kiss from before morphs into a ferocious needing, as our mouths forage each other. I feel the thick, protruding flesh that’s swelling between my legs pressing against my thigh begin to throb achingly.

Daphne must feel it against her, too, as she swivels her hips menacingly, taunting, as she delivers the most provocative friction to my groin. I moan deep into her throat, my tongue lapping against hers. Her lips smile, I can feel them. She seems to like the reaction she’s getting from me. 

My fingers find the bottom of the shirt and lift high, forcing her arms upward as I work her out of the cotton, discarding it on the floor when I’m done with it. Her skin is hot, burning almost, as I explore it with my hands, kneading every small bit of flesh I can find until I reach the fragile clasps under her shoulder blades. Blindly I pull them free, letting the back enclosure of her bra fall loosely.

Against my chest I feel the heavy swells of her breasts fall a bit as they are freed from the cotton cups that held them immobile. Now it’s my turn to return the favor and make
her
moan.

Pulling back from our kiss, I leave her panting, wanting more, her swollen lips searching for mine as I kiss a trail down her neck to the peaked buds that beg for my attention. I take one in my mouth, slowly rolling the taut nub between my teeth, teasing the outermost sensitive spot with my tongue, waiting for her signal.

Throwing her head back, she moans loudly, giving me the sign I was waiting for. Releasing the nipple, I take a mouthful of the soft flesh as I make love to her breast with my mouth, kneading the supple flesh soft tenderly, thoroughly paying equal attention to each of the capped mounds.

Her hands find my head, weaving fingers through my hair, tugging temptingly on the short waves as my tongue finds a place she enjoys. Feasting on her womanly gifts, I find myself lost in time, ignoring the building ache between my legs while I tend to her.

Before long she whimpers from above, signaling that I’ve neglected her pouty lips for way too long. I move to find them, retracing my path back to the warm hollow that awaits me. Her mouth is eager, making up for every lost second of my absence, drawing from it in a frenzy.

I thought I was ready to go, but, apparently, I’m just catching up to her. Carefully I stand, holding her under her luscious thighs as she grips her legs tight around my hips, never releasing my tongue from hers, never breaking the connection.

Not wanting to lose precious time, she begins to work on my shirt while I lead us to the oversized bed nearby. Her fingers clamber clumsily at the cotton pulling it to my arms, but finding that it can travel no further as long as my arms are wrapped securely around her. Another whimper of disappointment, and it makes my dick bounce in place.

Hearing her give sound to how much she needs me is as much of a turn on as anything right now.

Placing her in the middle of the ultra-plush bed, I watch as she sinks into the softness of it, giving her the moment she’s been waiting for to wrangle the shirt free off my body, to be thrown across the room to join hers. Her eyes drop down, tracing every line of my chest, my stomach, as I hover over her. The mental inventory her dark, pooled eyes are taking of my body leads them to stare at my belt like it’s an evil obstacle in her way. Her hands agilely loosen and then open the fastener to move the obstruction aside.

My heart is pounding so hard that I fear it will burst through my chest as I watch her, sprawled out beneath me, her wavy hair cascading around her loosely, free from the tiny elastic that I’d pulled off a moment ago.

Her deep blue eyes speak to me, beg me to come back to her as my own eyes wander agonizingly slow down her body, memorizing every curve, every little notch. Her creamy porcelain skin is flawless. Her chest heaves, controlling the light panting of her breathing. Everything I see is perfect, but I want to see more.

Taking the rolled cotton waist of the grey sweatpants in each fist, I tug gently past the sinfully curvy hips that she lifts for me. I feel my heart race faster and faster with every inch of new skin visible. Her navel, the flat area between her hips, the shadowed area that dips in as the pants clear past her thighs.

My already racing heart now does the unthinkable and dangerously stops beating, causing a tight gripping vice of pain in my ribcage as I discover she is panty less.

I have to distract myself before I start foaming at the mouth. Moving my eyes from the prize, I watch as I carefully lift each leg from the sweat pants, trailing my fingers along the exposed flesh of her calf, her knee.

Two distinct thumps on the floor behind me indicate that she’s kicked off her fuzzy slippers just in time for the ankles of the soft pants to slide passed. Her feet flex, toes point, like she’s in physical distress, wanting and needing.

Taking her left foot in hand, I massage the arch of it, eliciting a deep sated moan from her as her painted toes curl. My kneading fingers move to her ankle, her shin, behind her knee, garnering a giggle from being ticklish there, and then up to her thigh where it rests.

Her delicate skin begins to flush, breaking out in goosebumps when my hand slips down between her inner thighs, pushing one off to the side, opening the space just enough for me to settle into as I fall to my forearms.

I’m careful not to move too quickly, to be too eager even though I’m jumping out of my skin to taste her. This isn’t something that can be rushed, that can be done hastily. She’s the type of girl that should be worshipped, shown exactly what someone like me can do. I’ve got skills, I know I do, but, she needs more than that. She needs the raw emotion, the sensual touch that I’ve never felt the need to give before. My body was always enough for the others, but for Daphne, I know she’ll need more, she deserves more.

Keeping my eyes on hers, I lower my mouth to her heat, nearly burning both of us as it’s a battle of fires- whose is greater, hers or mine. It doesn’t matter, really, as they’ll become one in just a matter of minutes.

I know it’s all in my head, in my imagination, but I swear she tastes like golden nectar would. I feel a frenzy building and fight hard to suppress it, so that I can savor every second as I bring her to the precipice of her ecstasy.

She’s nearly there, I can tell. Her eyes grow heavy, watch dreamily, as she absorbs the feelings I’m giving to her. Almost there. In this moment, this is as much mental as it is physical. I tighten my hold on her, apply more pressure to the exact spot that I know will tip her over the edge, massaging it with the strong muscles of my mouth.

Not long after, she topples, and I embrace every little quake, every tremor and every shudder of her body. Her uneven and irregular breaths find a rhythm, some sort of normalcy as I slowly trail my lips with small kisses up her hip, her side, skimming them over the budded peak of her nipple, to her grateful mouth that shows her appreciation for my efforts.

The moment is quiet. There’s no need for words, for dirty talk, for some superficial verbal agreement to be mine. I don’t need it. I already have it- her body is just surrendering to the fact. I handle her gently as she recovers from it.

Her relaxed and weary limbs become restless once more, the passion and strength having regained its hold over her body.

“Please,” she whispers, pleading with me to give her more of what she craves.

I have every intention to.

“Be right back,” I kiss her nose before I leave her to rummage through my carry-on bag for the brand new box of condoms I bought just for this trip, and just for her.

My jeans puddle around my feet and I take the box back with me to the bed, where she’s watching, eager for me to return to her. I make good use of every second, multi-tasking to ensure I’m ready before climbing back into bed.

Using my knee, I spread her wide enough for me to fit in the space, inching forward to just the right spot, teasing the tip of myself at her entrance. Holding myself above her, ready to perform, I wait.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” my voice is strained, husky. I know she does. I need her to hear herself say it as I take her.

Her lips move, tongue darting out to lick them and coating just a touch of shiny moisture on them. “I want this. I want you.”

I’m deep before she even finishes her last word. One long, fluid, smooth movement, and I’m inside, perfectly filling and fitting inside her. Her mouth gapes as she takes it all in, creating a perfectly hollowed “o”.

Her gorgeous eyes flutter and roll back, feeling everything I have to give as my movements take her again and again. It’s not long at all before her own hips rise to meet mine at every turn, giving back to me what I deliver to her.

Her leg bends around mine, hooking itself, and creating a tighter bond between us, binding our bodies together in yet another place. I take her mouth once more, relishing each pant as my actions force the breath from her body.

I can feel pressure when she attempts to roll, to take control, to ride me. Not this time, not now. There’s plenty of time for that. This time, our first time, it’s me.
I’m
in control.