Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
My heart leaps into my throat. My lips part, and his eyes drop for a split second.
“Cassidy…”
“Kiss me goddamn it, Lark,” I breathe.
His lips collide with mine, and I sink into him. Slide my arms up to wrap around his neck as he draws me up and off my chair, pulling me to him.
I don’t notice our audience until we break apart, breathless, and Marcel starts to clap, a sly little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Now I see why you were so effusive about this one, my friend.” Marcel winks at Lark, who grins, one arm draped casually around my shoulder.
I lean into him for support, my heart still racing, and try to drag myself back into work mode, back onto the set. All I can think about, though, is the man beside me. The fact that I can feel his heartbeat racing in tune with my own, everywhere our bodies touch.
8
Cassidy
After a long day at set, all I want to do is go home and collapse into bed. But we barely make it five steps past the studio door before Lark pins me against the brick wall of the parking lot and kisses me again, searing, invigorating.
“That was torture,” he murmurs, lips inches from mine. “Being so close to you all day, unable to touch you…”
I drape my arms over his shoulders, and I kiss him slowly. Languorously. Taking my time, now that I know we have all the time in the world. “You can touch me now,” I breathe when we break apart, and fire flashes in his gaze.
“Trust me, I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon.” A studio door opens nearby, and I glance over his shoulder. One of the models descends the staircase, still wearing my makeup on her eyes.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that. Or get used to having my own photo taken. I posed for that last, and I was so nervous, but Lark held my gaze the whole time, flashed me thumbs up and smiled whenever I hesitated or started to get shy.
By the end, the photographer told me I was a natural. But I don’t think so. I think I just had the support I needed to power through.
Lark follows my gaze to the girl, who’s followed out of the building by a few more members of the camera crew, hauling out equipment. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and practically pulls me through the parking lot behind him, laughing.
“Where are we going?” I demand, but he doesn’t answer. Not until we reach a BMW on the far side of the lot, the windows tinted. He unlocks it, and I pause, eyebrows lifted. “I should have known you’d have a bougie car,” I say.
“She’s not bougie, she’s vintage,” Lark protests. Then, to my confusion, he opens the back door.
“What are—” I start to ask. I don’t have time to finish. He grabs my waist and lifts me bodily, his mouth colliding with mine, his tongue parting my lips to wrestle with my own.
I’m so lost in the kiss, I almost don’t notice what he’s doing until he spins us around and lays me down in the backseat. Then he climbs in after and shuts the door.
I stifle a laugh, watching him. “Are we back in high school?” I tease.
“I can’t wait until we get home.” He reaches down to push the hem of my skirt up around my waist. I gasp as his fingers brush my upper thighs, hot and rough. “My cock is so fucking hard I’m going to lose it unless I have you.”
He punctuates those words with rough kisses on my stomach, pushing my shirt up and out of the way too. Then his lips press to my inner thighs, one after the other. Down to the backs of my knees, the edges of my calves. His tongue knows all the right spots to find to make me arch up against him, twist against the seat.
For all his talk about needing me, he sure takes his time teasing me, toying with me. His fingertips trace the edges of my panties, then he presses a thumb against my clit through them, trailing down to my pussy lips, smirking.
“I love how wet you get for me, Cassidy.”
My breath catches, and I reach down to try to pull him closer, on top of me. He’s lying along my leg, and I can feel the hard press of his cock against my thigh. But he won’t give me what I want, not yet.
“First I want you ready for me,” he says. And then his face is between my thighs, pushing, nudging them apart. His stubble grazes the soft skin there, rough and deliciously scratchy. He catches my panties in his teeth and drags them down, making my breath catch.