Method(39)

“No?”

“No,” he grins, gesturing for me to lift my arms before he slides on my T-shirt.

“And what if she doesn’t agree to wait?”

“She could be the one to break my heart.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s not get dramatic.”

“Hazard of the job,” he says before he leans in taking my lips. His kisses are deep and leisurely, the best kind.

He captures my lip between his teeth. “Don’t ever try to deny me your kiss again.”

“Now we’re giving orders?”

His expression changes as does his tone, both filled with authority. “I like you, Mila. A lot.” He places my hand on his chest and covers it with his own. “And if you don’t like me the same, you damned sure shouldn’t have slept with me.”

I shrug doing a horrible job of playing coy. “Meh, you’re okay. You could use a shower.”

His expression doesn’t change. “So what do you say?”

“I’ll think about it.” It’s a pretty lie. Even if it only turns out to be the best sexual chemistry in history, it’s worth waiting for.

As soon as we’re dressed, he pulls me into his lap and gives me a kiss that lasts until the knock sounds at the door.





Later that night I lay in bed, my head racing with should haves. I left shortly after they called him back to the set. I didn’t want any part of watching him touch another woman. Acting or not, I’m just not the type. Maybe if I got to a point where I was more comfortable and secure in whatever we have brewing, but we were too new. And that’s if I didn’t ruin it by letting my blazing libido take over. Tossing in my bed, I kick off the sheets and sit up, completely restless when I swipe my phone, and it lights up with the time. 4:45 am. It’s then I see a text Lucas sent hours ago.

Lucas: Don’t you dare regret it.

I decide not to reply. I didn’t want him thinking I was up doing precisely that. After another twenty minutes of staring into space, I throw my covers off and head toward my kitchen, flinching when I hear pounding at my front door. Peeking through the hole, I jerk back when I see Lucas peering through it.

Without thinking, I open it to see him leaning in on the frame, his eyes blazing a trail from my bare feet up to my panties and cami.

He looks so incredible, his hair damp, in well-fitting dark jeans, a long-sleeved zipped hoodie, and sand-colored boots, his breaths coming fast as if he’s just run miles to get to my door. Everything inside clenches in memory of his touch.

“That’s not how I wanted this to start,” he states as if we were still in mid-conversation. “I’ll never regret it, but…” His eyes zero in on the silk triangle between my thighs, “Jesus, this is how you typically answer the door?”

Opening the door wider to give him a better view, I cock my hip. “You were saying?”

Without hesitation, he scoops me in his arms and kicks the door closed behind him. “After.”

“After?”

“After I do the hundred things that I want to do to you before I can complete that sentence.”

Claiming my mouth, he sweeps me away in his hungry kiss. Thoroughly seduced, he allows little space between us once he’s taken his fill, his warm breath tickling my lips when he speaks, “I leave at six tonight, not nearly enough time.”

We grin at each other as he slowly walks me into the living room. Eyes intent on mine, he carries me easily. “Mila, you’ve got me going crazy here,” he whispers, “what are you thinking?”

“This is going fast.”

“True,” he agrees, before softly pressing another kiss to my lips, “but I plan on taking it slow this morning. Where is your bedroom?”





The feel of his lips and tongue assault my senses as I lay listless in a dream-like state. We’d been caught up in a mix of sexing, sleeping, and eating since he showed up at my door. Keeping my eyes closed, I thread my fingers in his dark mane as he presses kiss after kiss to my stomach. Smiling, I open my eyes to see him staring at me from where he’s perched above me. His arms bulk with the strain of his weight and I feather my fingers over the mouth-watering curves.

“My car will be here soon.” His expression is grave. “Fuck,” he grumbles. “I don’t want to leave.” Biting his lower lip, he looks down at me thoughtfully. “Come with me.”

My eyes widen. “Come with you to Egypt?”

“Yeah, pack a bag and come with me,” he says with baffling ease.

“Uh, no, I can’t come to Egypt.” He kneels on the bed, and I sit up, pulling the sheet over my exposed breasts. He lowers it with a scowl.

“Why not? Because of work?”

“Yes, well no, I don’t have anything until next week.”

“Great, come with me today, right now.”

“I can’t go to Egypt today.”

He draws his brows. “You have a passport, right? You said you were in France.”

“Yes, I have a passport, but…”

He tugs my legs so I’m trapped beneath him and then cages me in his hold. “Then come with me to Egypt. Just for a week.”

“You’re crazy.”

“We’ve chartered a plane and have plenty of extra seats. You can sit in the one next to me, beauty. We can get to know each other better.”