Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(85)
Author: Leisa Rayven

He looks so desperate as he grips me like his life depends on it, that I’m not entirely sure he’s awake.

He keeps mumbling “Please, Cassie,” over and over again, and it’s only when I pull him in to my chest and run my fingers through his hair that he relaxes.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I won’t leave. I’ll stay with you.”

He sighs, and the air is still thick and wheezy in his lungs. “Thank you.”

He pushes his head into my neck, and I’m a little shocked when I feel his lips on my throat.

“Ethan?”

He moans and kisses me again as his arms tighten.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he rests his head on my shoulder. “I love you so much. Don’t leave me.”

He slumps back into sleep, and I’m left reeling.

It’s not until I feel the burn in my lungs that I realize I’ve forgotten to breathe.

EIGHTEEN

SURE BET

After Holt’s unexpected and semi-delirious admission of love, he continues to groan and mumble for hours.

Predictably, he doesn’t repeat it.

The balloon of wild hope in my chest slowly deflates.

When I snuggle into his side and try to sleep, he wraps around me like a possessive boa constrictor. It makes me smile.

It’s still dark when I become aware of fingers grazing over my skin. They push under the hem of my shirt and trail across my stomach.

“Ethan?”

He clears his throat. “You expecting some other guy in bed next to you? ’Cause I’m not too sick to kick his ass.”

He still sounds terrible, but there’s something about the rumbling timbre in his voice that gives me goose bumps.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to feel your skin.”

There’s a hint of groan in his voice that worries me, but when I touch his forehead, it’s cool. The fever’s finally broken.

“How are you feeling?”

“Horny.” He moves his hand higher, then warm fingertips stroke my side. “Want you.”

He presses against me, hot and hard on my thigh, rocking his hips in a way that leaves no doubt as to exactly how much he wants me.

“Oh, God…” My body reacts without engaging my brain, and I tighten my arms around him.

“Cassie…”

He slides his hand up to my breast and gently kneads it through my bra. The sensation spirals down all my limbs.

Warning bells go off in my head, because I know if I don’t stop him now, what he’s doing will rob me of all the reasons I shouldn’t let him touch me like this, and I’ll be back where I was four days ago.

“Ethan … we have to stop.”

He pulls back and looks at me. “You think I can’t tell how much you want me? You’re practically tearing off my shirt.”

“That’s not the point.”

“No, the point is you want me to keep going, but only on your terms. As your boyfriend.”

“Is it so wrong that I need to know where I stand with you?”

“Dammit, Taylor, do you honestly not know how I feel by now? I know I’m a good actor, but as far my feelings go, I’ve been stupidly transparent.”

“I need to hear you say it.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“I told you earlier.”

“I didn’t think you were awake.”

“I’m awake now.”

“Then say it again.”

He leans down and kisses my temple, then my cheek, then as close as he can get to my mouth without actually touching my lips.

“I love you, Cassie. I don’t want to, but I do. Now, please…” He kisses my neck again, lips soft and open as he trails his hand down to the button of my jeans. “Shut up and let me touch you. It’s been too long. I’m losing my freaking mind.”

I close my eyes as he pops the button and lowers the zipper. Then all I can do is press my head back into the pillow, because he’s pushing his fingers into my panties, and any sense of reality completely disintegrates. His fingers are sure and strong, making me arch and pant as he puppet-masters all the strings of my pleasure, inciting noises that are way too loud in his dark, silent room.

He circles his fingers, his breath hot on my throat, my mind spinning as everything inside me curls and tightens.

I groan, because what he’s doing isn’t enough. I need more. All of him.

“Please,” I whisper as I reach between us and find him through his boxers, hard and long.

“Jesus, Taylor … “

I grip him and move slowly up and down, trying to draw him closer. “Ethan, please…”

He makes a low sound and wraps his fingers around mine. “Cassie, stop. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do. Want you. Love you, too.”

“You … what?!”

“Ethan … inside me … Love you.”

“Cassie!”

Then, I’m being shaken, and when I open my eyes, Holt’s looking down at me, frowning and breathing heavily as sunlight spills into the room.

I gasp as my pre-orgasmic tension melts away, and I take stock of where I am.

One of my hands is pressing firmly between my thighs, and the other …

Oh, God.

The other is on the front of Holt’s boxers, wrapped firmly around his very hard erection.

“Oh, God.”

I let him go, and he sits up as he pulls the blankets over himself. “You were dreaming.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Talking and … grabbing at me…”

“Oh, God.” My face burns with embarrassment. “How long was I…?”

“A few minutes.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He sighs and says, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I … I molested you. I’m a sexual deviant.”

I put my hands over my face and groan, too mortified to even look at him.

“Dammit, Taylor, stop blushing. It’s not all your fault. At first I thought you were awake, and had … you know … changed your mind about us doing stuff. But then you started talking, and I knew you were dreaming. I could have stopped you, but I’m a man, and therefore genetically programmed to resist removing a woman’s hand from my dick.”

I pull my knees up to my chest and glance at him. “You said I was talking. What did I say?”

He frowns and picks at the blanket as he clears his throat. “It was a dream. It doesn’t matter.”