Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(70)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“Fuck me, Taylor…” He lets me go and slumps back against the couch. “You just … you can’t go around saying that kind of stuff.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He rubs his eyes, then looks at me, pained and turned on. “I’m trying not to let things get out of control with you, and if you keep saying that stuff, it’s going to be fucking impossible.”

“Fine. I won’t talk.”

I push up his tank and kiss his stomach before moving down to the waistband of his pants. A long, tortured groan pours out of him.

“We can’t,” he says, his voice cracking. “Someone could walk in any second.”

“So?” I unlatch his belt buckle. “I’m sure it’s not the first time drama students have been caught pleasuring each other backstage. We’re a very horny bunch, or haven’t you noticed?”

I stroke him through his pants, and even though his accompanying moan sounds like a protest, he doesn’t stop me.

“You’re killing me, Taylor. You know that, right? Every time you touch me, you kill me a little more.”

There’s a rush of running feet outside, and Holt springs off the couch and refastens his pants right before the door bursts open, and a naked Jack Avery streaks into the room.

“Pre-party nudie dash!” He does a quick lap of the room and exits.

“Jesus. I did not need to see that.” Holt strides toward the open door. “Why don’t these goddamn doors have locks? Hide your shame, Avery!”

He slams the door and slumps back onto the couch.

“Actually,” I say, “nude Jack has nothing to be ashamed of. Who knew the geek was packing that larger-than-average lightsaber in his Star Wars underoos?”

Holt rolls his eyes, and I laugh as I sit beside him and stroke the back of his neck.

“You were really good tonight,” I say, running my fingers over his ear.

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love watching you onstage. You’re so … sexy. And talented. In fact, I think you’re sexy because you’re talented. I mean, you’re also ridiculously handsome, but so are soap actors, and they do absolutely nothing for me because they’re terrible actors. So yeah, I find your talent a turn-on. Is that weird? Should I stop talking now?”

He smiles and leans forward. “Yes.”

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me gently. I grip his arms to steady myself as my heart kicks into overdrive.

He pulls back and sighs. “You’re talented, too. Way too talented in too many ways.”

“So,” I say as I take his hand and stroke his fingers. “Did you see my scene with Connor?”

He tenses. “Uh … yeah. I saw it from backstage.”

A hint of agitation creeps onto his face, and I can almost hear his brain whispering things that aren’t true.

“And what did you think?”

“You were good.”

“Uh huh. And Connor?”

He shrugs and stands. “He was all right. He made some obvious choices, but I guess they worked.”

He strips off his pants, giving me a very nice view of his butt in dark gray boxer-briefs before he pulls on his jeans.

“So … you don’t want to talk about anything else to do with the scene?”

He grabs a V-neck sweater and yanks it over his head. “Nope.” He pushes up the sleeves and runs his hand through his hair.

“You don’t care that I kissed him?”

He sits on a chair opposite me and pulls out his boots and socks from under the bench. “I care. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he says as he pulls on a sock, “talking about it … even thinking about it, makes me irrationally fucking angry.”

Wow. He’s admitting something. This is epic.

“Holt, you know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?”

He pushes his foot into his boot and tugs roughly at the laces. “Don’t I? You looked pretty into that kiss. And it’s been obvious from day one that Connor wants to get into your pants.”

I walk over and stand in front of him as he laces up his other boot. “I don’t think he does anymore. Ever since that first party when I stopped him kissing me, I think he’s known that … well…”

He finishes with his laces and looks up at me. “He’s known what?”

I focus on the tiny frown line between his brows. “Even back then, he’d figured out that I … you know … liked you.”

He leans back in the chair and sighs. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean he stopped liking you. He just started hiding it better.”

“He’s hiding it pretty well. During our entire week of rehearsals, he didn’t make a single pass at me.”

“Apart from all that time he spent sucking your face, of course.”

I blink. “Uh … yeah. Apart from that.”

He stands up and takes a step toward me. “Did he use tongue?”

“A little.”

“How little?”

I cup the back of his head and pull his head down. “Kind of like this.”

I kiss him slowly, then take his top lip between mine and suck on it gently before repeating the move on his bottom lip.

He makes a noise and pulls back to glare down at me. “Jesus, Cassie, he kissed you like that?!”

“Uh … sort of.”

“Sort of?!”

“Well, yeah, but … it was different because it was our characters, and … it wasn’t you. And that made it all wrong.”

He drops his head. I’m not explaining myself well, but I don’t know what to say to him.

“He and I didn’t have any of the chemistry you and I do.”

“From where I stood, it looked like you had plenty of chemistry.”

“It was just acting. Did you see the love scene between Miranda and Jack? It was hot as hell, but it’s not like Miranda has traded in her lesbian card and wants to jump Jack. It just looked that way.”

He walks around me and grabs a hanger from the rack before hanging up his suit and zipping it into a garment bag.

“Ethan, come on.”

“I believe you,” he says as he shoves it onto the rack. “Logically, I know you did what was needed in order to make the scene work. But…”

“But what?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and blows out a breath. “It made me feel sick, seeing you kissing him.” He looks at me, and even now he doesn’t seem entirely well. “It made me crazy, Taylor, and I’m not just saying that as hyperbole. I truly felt unhinged. Like I could have beaten the shit out of him for touching you.”