Thrive (Addicted, #4)(33)

Thankfully she doesn’t look like Rose.

She still has that delicate round face, the gangly arms and legs. She’s adorable. In every sense of the word. And she’s all mine to take care of.

I take a step closer to Lily and rest my hand above her head. When I stare down at her, she parts her lips in questioning like are you flirting with me?

I force back a smile. Yes, I’m flirting with you, Lil. I shove any concerns towards the back of my head. She can handle this without having sex. She has to. Because we can’t fuck every time I touch her this way.

With one hand over her head, my other falls to the hem of her romper. I slip my finger in the belt loop on her hip and pause.

Her breath hitches, her gaze flitting from my lips back to my eyes. And then her neck flushes. She glances at the goddamn camera.

Thing is—we have more free reign where PDA is concerned now that the cameras follow us. Instead of Rose thinking we’re having more sex, we just blame it on hamming it up for the viewers at home. Rose rarely scolds me now.

As long as Lily can handle it, we should be fine.

I clutch her waist, still hooked to her belt loop. My fingers dip below her hipbone, the romper’s fabric a lot softer than the jeans she normally wears.

Her back arches against the door frame, and her arms fly around my neck. I lean in to kiss her, and she tries to meet me halfway. I pull back a little and she catches air.

Her mouth falls, breathless. “No fair.”

“Didn’t you hear?” My lips curve upward. “I’m the biggest tease in Princeton.” I pause, smiling wider. “And Philadelphia.”

She lightly punches my arm.

My brows rise. “Is that a love tap?”

She hits me harder.

I rub my arm and mock wince. “Are you working out, Lil?”

She raises her arm and flexes her “muscle” which is a very tiny bulge. “Ryke gave me a five-pound weight for my birthday, remember? He said I needed to bulk up.”

I remember. “That was a shitty birthday present.”

“Yours was better,” she declares with a warm smile. It was a belated present, on purpose. During Comic-Con, I managed to get some of the artists to sign Lily’s favorite X-Men issues. It helped that we split up when she went to the director’s panel. I returned to the convention floor just for their signatures.

The nearby camera fills the short silence, groaning as it zooms in on us. Lily freezes again.

Brett asks, “What did you get for Lily?”

I glare. So much for not asking questions. “You told us that we can’t talk to you, but you can talk to us?” How the hell does this work?

“Yeah,” he says evasively.

I grimace and scowl at the same time.

Brett takes one step back. “You don’t have to answer,” he mutters under his breath.

He’s probably scared that I’m going to slap the camera out of his hands. Something Ryke has done to paparazzi before and been severely fined for it.

I stare right at Brett and ask, “You want to know how I satiate a sex addict?” When I shift my gaze to Lily, she already holds her breath. I tilt her chin up, forcing her eyes to mine.

And then I kiss her. Deeply. Passionately. Like we were born to share oxygen. I part her lips with my tongue, tasting her, and then focus on her bottom lip. I suck gently, and her leg instinctively rises up to my hip, silently craving for me to fit between her thighs. I almost harden, especially as she clings tighter to me, blanketed with strong, feverish need.

She wears her insatiability with every breached moan and grind against me. I feed into it with every coarse, rough movement that slams against her thin body. It’s a hunger that only compulsives and addicts know well. It’s why people look away when we kiss. The raw desire grips my cock, my lungs, my mind. My lips drift to her neck, and my hand perilously rides the edge between her waist and her abdomen.

When we kiss full-force again, my head just explodes and I lose sense of my surroundings. I don’t care about anyone else but Lily. I raise her hand above her head, laced with mine like I’ve done so many times before.

She moans into a kiss, but we don’t stop.

I’m going to love Lily how I want to love her.

Overwhelmingly, uncompromisingly.

Look away if you have to.

My one hand on her hip falls between her legs, and I squeeze. She tries to stifle the cry, but it escapes her lips. I grin into our next kiss while she moves her hands up to my chest and shoves me back.

Her eyes flit to the camera.

That may have been the first time she’s rejected me—since we’ve been an official couple that is.

Jesus, maybe this reality show will actually do some good.

My lips sting. She breathes heavily.

I follow her gaze, and my grin stretches.

Brett’s cheeks are flushed red, and he makes a concerted effort to avoid our eyes.

Lily said she missed the teasing. I didn’t realize how much I did too, until now.

A thin sheen of sweat is gathered on my forehead. “You hot and bothered, Brett?” I ask him.

He makes an uncomfortable noise that sounds like a grunt. “You can’t…”

“Talk to you? Right.” I flash a half-smile.

Six months of a reality show—we can do this. Easy.

Lily’s cell chimes. She takes her flip phone out of her pocket, and her mood clouds. “Rose is asking about cake tasting.”