Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2)(26)

The studio built an incredibly plush theatre, which was free and open to anyone who worked on the lot. It was fancy. That was really the only way it could be described. The studio understood the people who made the movies didn’t always have time to see them, so they built a theatre to make the movies more accessible. Also, sometimes the big Hollywood actors couldn’t just go to a movie theatre. Not that I expected to see someone famous. Usually the theatre was used by poor interns or other employees who couldn’t really afford to go to the movies in LA, as it was nearly as expensive as putting a down payment on a house.

Plus, the popcorn was free and loaded with salt and butter.

We found our seats, not too close to the front, and I started the process of getting comfortable. The seats, which weren’t like the ones in a normal theatre, were like soft, fluffy love seats. They were just big enough for two people to have enough space, but small enough that you were forced to share your personal space anyway. I had no qualms making myself at home. I stripped off my jacket, laying it over the arm of the seat, then took my shoes off. Riot looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

“Did you bring your favorite pajamas too?”

He was mocking me.

“They pretty much invite you to pretend you’re at home with these chairs. I don’t want to be uncomfortable. I want to lounge. Especially if I’m going to watch a scary movie.”

He held up both his hands in defense, but a smile was playing on his lips. “Hey, I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your comfort. By all means, make yourself at home.”

“I intend to,” I said, raising my chin in defiance. He was laughing at me, but he stopped when I settled next to him, my hips touching his. My feet were curled up under me to the side, forcing me to lean against him. No, he wasn’t laughing any longer. He was, however, smiling when he lifted his arm and coolly laid it behind me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. I let my body lean farther into him, taking the space his arm had vacated. I snuggled in a little closer and whispered, “Smooth.”

I felt him laugh, but didn’t hear him. I did see his smile hiding behind his hand as his fingers covered his mouth. He was busted. I just smiled though, and leaned in a little farther, dipping my hand to pull a few popcorn kernels out of our tub and toss them in my mouth.

“Hey,” he said quietly. I turned my head slightly to look up at him. “Hit me.” His mouth opened wide and stayed that way. I laughed, but relented, placing a few kernels in his mouth. He smiled as he started chewing. The theatre was pretty empty, typical for a Wednesday night, but in that moment it felt like we were the only ones in the room. I stared at his jaw as he chewed, watched his Adam’s apple dip when he swallowed, and couldn’t tear my eyes away from him for anything. He made popcorn sexy.

He gave me a sharp nod. “One more hit, babe.” My hands were on autopilot and I deposited a few more pieces of popcorn in his mouth. He closed his lips around my finger before I had a chance to pull away. I drew in a faltering breath as he took his time sucking the salt and butter from my finger, his eyes never leaving mine. It was anything but innocent. It was raw, carnal, and only brought on images of Riot sucking on other parts of my body. Images I’d tried to bury for months, that hurt too much to think about for so long. Now, however, those pictures flooded my mind and I not only welcomed them, my mind took them farther, put him and me in new and equally hot scenarios where his mouth was latched on to my body for a variety of reasons in a variety of places.

He pulled his mouth to the end of my finger, his tongue flat and dragging along the bottom of it, and just before my finger fell away, he pressed a kiss to the very end of it. It was, possibly, the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed firsthand. And we were in a movie theatre. Surrounded by other people. I let out a shuddering breath and felt the crimson blush heat up my cheeks. He smiled at my obvious mortification, but pulled my shoulder closer to him. My lungs tripped again when I felt his breath feather over the skin just below my ear.

“You taste good,” he growled, so low it was almost a whisper.

“It’s the butter from the popcorn,” I stupidly responded, my words rushing out with the only breath I’d been able to take in since he’d f*cked my finger with his mouth.

“I give credit where it’s due, baby. You. Taste. Good.”

He might as well have been talking directly to my vagina for all the clenching he was causing. Riot and I had always done sexual tension well. It had been built up over the phone and explosive anytime we were physically near each other. It had been capped for so long, our desire for one another put on hold, forced into a proverbial darkness. Now that we’d kind of lifted the ban, I was afraid the passion we’d always had for each other was going to sweep us away on a wave of lust and potentially bad decisions.

All those thoughts didn’t stop me from melting into him when he pulled my shoulder closer to him. It didn’t stop me from watching that horrifying movie, pressing my face into his chest when I wanted to scream. And it didn’t stop me from loving the way it felt to let him hold me, his thumb absently rubbing up and down the side of my shoulder, causing goose bumps to spread all over.

When the lights came up and I heard the people around us shuffling to gather their belongings and leave the theatre, I frowned into him, not wanting to leave the little bubble of warmth we’d created. I was comfortable. More than that, I’d not had one heavy thought for two solid hours as I leaned against him, watching that scary excuse for a film.