Nocturne(52)
I closed my eyes. The tension in my body and throat was worse than any recital or performance, worse than any audition I’d ever performed. It was almost painful to speak. My voice came out strangled, too fast, too much force, too much everything. “I want much more than that, Savannah. But as you said …” I trailed off, not wanting to remind her of her protests.
Her eyes watered a little and she blinked, moving inches from my body in one graceful motion. “This isn’t … it isn’t right. For either one of us.”
“I don’t care.” The words came out in a rush of breath.
I closed the remaining distance between us. She pressed her palm against my chest, as if to stop me. She leaned her head back, and my eyes fell to her lips. She took a deep breath. The very same spot where her hand had rested when we stood in the rain. Where we kissed.
“I care,” she whispered. “I can’t do this.” But her hand, which was poised to push me away, curled up, bunching my shirt up into her fist, and she pulled herself toward me.
“I can’t either,” I said. “We’ll be back at the conservatory in two weeks. It’s too dangerous. You’re too dangerous.”
Her face paled, and her tone sharpened, but she never released my shirt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I closed my eyes. My whole body was tense, the muscles in my shoulders ready for a rehearsal, or a performance … or a war. I opened my eyes and looked in hers. Her brown eyes. So young. So confused. Intense.
Before I could stop myself or think or do anything that made any sense at all, I spoke.
“Savannah ...”
Then I stopped talking. She was so close to me, her slender fist bunched up in my shirt, her eyes huge, her lips so close I couldn’t stop myself from touching them, and I was compelled to know what those lips felt like again.
“Gregory, I ...”
Her words were cut off when my lips touched hers, and I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me. This was no slow, gentle kiss. Our mouths opened immediately, and she gripped the back of my neck, pushing us together closer, a low moan like a growl rising from her throat as she pressed her body against mine, hard.
Savannah
I gave him as many chances as I could to turn and leave. To come to his senses. I wouldn’t ask anymore, not with the way his tongue danced greedily inside my mouth. Or the feel of his goatee against my skin. Rough. It fired sensations through my body faster than I could keep up with.
I managed to pry myself away from the kiss. “This way.”
I led him up the stairs and stumbled on the next to the last. Gregory caught me, and we quickly moved to the guest room that had been my home for the past several weeks, and closed the door.
My shirt was on the floor and my hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt before the latch clicked into place. Gregory raised his arms overhead, the muscles in his arms bunching as he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head and the rest of the way off. I pressed my almost-bare chest into his, letting out a small moan at the feeling of his hard muscles against my breasts. His hands moved from my lower back to the clasp of my bra, where he fumbled for a moment before successfully freeing it. And me.
“Jesus.” His lips stayed parted as I backed away to slide the black lace barrier off my shoulders.
In here, there was no sign of the passionless music theory professor. This was the man who closed his eyes and swayed as he coaxed adoration from his cello, the man whose eyes froze me in place every time he looked at me, the man who returned my kiss in the rain and made my heart crave completeness I didn’t even know I was missing. He was quite still, but the hard lines around his eyes and mouth morphed from tension to reverence as I set my hands on his hips and stepped back into his hold.
His head bowed just a bit, as though he wanted to kiss me. Before he reached my lips, I tilted my head to the side and kissed his chest, moving my lips slowly across his scorching bare skin until my tongue centered on his nipple. Gregory sucked in a loud, fast breath through his teeth as my tongue worked him over. Teasing. Testing.
“Come here.” His growl made me weak, and I looked up to find his eyes alive with purpose. He grabbed my face and kissed me again, hard, and I was suddenly aware that I was the only one completely naked. I had no recollection as to when I’d discarded my panties, but now wasn’t the time to wonder about their whereabouts.
As our mouths and tongues hungrily explored each other, I deftly undid his belt with one hand as my other tugged at his hair. Each time I tugged, he gripped my hips harder. The blurred lines between pain and pleasure swirled around me, and all I knew was I wanted more of him. Now. As his pants fell to his ankles, Gregory kicked off his shoes and stepped out and away from his wrinkled khakis. He stood before me in nothing but his grey boxer briefs and I gaped at his form.
Immaculate.
His arms, shoulders, and the tightly bunched muscles of his torso were toned from thousands of hours at the cello, more than I’d ever realized until now. They begged to be touched.
“Don’t move,” I whispered against his lips. Kissing him once, nibbling on his swollen bottom lip as I pulled away, I moved my hands to the waistband of his last article of closing.
I squatted slowly as I pulled them down, kneeling in front of him as they settled around his ankles. I led the tips of my fingers slowly up the sides of his legs, feeling goosebumps pop up as soon as I made contact. He was so ready for me, the ache between my legs made me moan as I knelt before him. I let one hand reach his hip as I slowly circled the other around him. His hips twitched as my mouth inched closer.
Andrea Randall & Cha's Books
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- The Good Luck Sister (Wildstone #1.5)