Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(69)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“Yeah, sure,” I say, even though I’d really like to stay with Holt a little longer. “So, Ethan, uh … you … do good, okay?”

I eye-roll my epic lameness.

Holt gives me a halfhearted smile, and I hate that he looks so sick. I’m hoping it’s nerves and not me and Connor, but I’m betting it’s a little of both.

“Have a good one, man,” Connor says and pats Holt’s shoulder. “See you after the show.”

As we walk away, I’m sure I hear Holt mutter, “Not if I see you first, asshole.”

A few minutes later, his group is introduced, and as soon as he walks onstage, I’m mesmerized. Lucas and Troy infuse the scene with the sort of machismo-fueled rivalry that it needs, but it’s quite clear from his energy that Holt is the alpha male. He also looks completely edible in his suit and tie.

Their scene ends to huge amounts of applause, and after several more group performances, the show’s over. Erika comes onto the stage and makes a speech congratulating us all on a great collaborative effort before wishing us a good weekend.

As Connor and I head backstage to get changed, he puts his arm around me, as usual. It shouldn’t make me feel weird, because he’s always been physically affectionate, but with things being the way they are with Holt me, I feel guilty. It’s bad enough I’ve spent all week kissing Connor for our scene.

It’s not like I have feelings for Connor beyond friendship, but part of me wonders what it would be like to go out with a boy who isn’t afraid to show affection in public. Hell, I wonder what it would be like to go out with a boy. What Holt and I are doing could hardly be defined as “dating.” Mostly we hang out at my place. On the rare occasion we do go out, it’s to parties with the rest of our class where we spend the whole night avoiding each other. Then when he drives me home, we paw at each other frantically until someone orgasms.

He hasn’t once asked me out on a proper date. He hasn’t even invited me over to his apartment.

“See you at the party?” Connor says as we go our separate ways. I nod and wave. I’d like to think that Holt plans to take me, but the only consistent thing about him is his unpredictability.

When I finish getting changed, I grab my backpack and head to his dressing room. I step inside to find him sitting on the couch unlacing his shoes. He’s still wearing his suit pants, but his shirt, tie, and jacket are slung over the chair, and all he’s wearing on his upper half is a white tank.

Oh. God.

I stand there in a state of debilitating lust, watching his arms flex as he tugs at his laces. He looks up and catches me.

He frowns as he pulls off his shoes and socks. “You okay?”

“No.” Pretty sure I’m slack-jawed and drooling.

He stops what he’s doing. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I gesture to his shoulders and arms. “That’s what wrong, mister. All of that! I don’t see you for five days, then you show up wearing that?!”

He rests his elbows on his knees as he looks down at himself. “Taylor, you’ve seen my arms before.”

“Not recently. And it’s not just your arms. It’s your shoulders. And your neck. And that little bit of hair on your chest. And all of it together, wrapped up in that … that ridiculous piece of clothing you’re wearing.”

“My tank?”

“Yes! It’s like wrapping up the very definition of the word ‘sexy’ in a layer of irresistible lust.” I grunt in frustration and whisper, “It does strange things to me, Ethan. It makes me want to do strange things to you, too.”

He stares at me for a second before trailing his gaze down my body, then up again. “What sort of things?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I really, really do. Show me.”

“It’s too embarrassing. You’ll judge me.”

“Taylor, you haven’t touched me in five days. Do you really want to keep discussing this, or do you want to do something about it?”

He has a point. “Uch. Fine.”

I walk over and kneel between his legs. He watches me with wary eyes as I put my hands on his thighs.

“Flex your bicep,” I order quietly. He looks confused. “Just do it.”

He shakes his head before clenching his fist and curling his arm, causing the muscles to contract and bunch in ways that makes me bite my tongue to keep from making an embarrassingly wanton sound.

I lean forward and press my lips against the bunched muscle. Holt seems confused.

When I trail my teeth over the soft skin and press into the hardness underneath, he frowns. I close my eyes and suck on the thick muscle. He makes a strangled noise, and when I look at him, I notice he’s panting and his pupils are huge.

I give his bicep one final suck before my mortification wins out, and I pull back.

“That’s the sort of thing it makes me want to do,” I say as I sit back on my heels. “Now, aren’t you embarrassed you like someone who’s so obviously disturbed?”

He lowers his arm and blinks. “You have no idea, do you? You literally have no clue.”

“About what?”

“About how insanely fucking sexy you are.”

He wraps one arm around me and pulls me forward as he splays his fingers across my cheek and kisses me, sudden and passionate. His mouth is warm and insistent. I react by making more noise than is probably wise considering I can hear my classmates moving around outside the dressing room door.

“Sshhh,” he whispers as he pulls me against him.

I’m dizzy, and I clutch at his shoulders as he kisses down my jaw and onto my neck.

“Wow,” I say, breathless. “If this is how you react when I suck on your bicep, imagine the fun we’re going to have when I get to other parts of your anatomy.”

He immediately freezes.

And there it is. The reaction he always has when I imply I’d like to take him in my mouth.

“You know,” I say, trying to loosen his arms so I can pull back and look at him, “most men have a completely different reaction when a girl offers to pleasure them orally. Are you afraid I won’t do it right, because I have no experience? I can assure you, I’ve watched enough porn to know my way around a penis. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it all the way in like some of those girls, but I’m sure, with enough practice that I could—”