Page 18 of All That Glitters

I bounce against the cushions. Her prop. Her set piece. I’m prepared to let her finish out the scene doing whatever she wants until Empire climbs on my lap and I stiffen. Her legs are on either side of my hips, her core dangerously close to my cock.

“What is it you really want from me, Mr. Patterson?” she asks. Her hips roll closer to mine with the script still balanced in her right hand as her left hand rests on my shoulder. “Hmm? Tell me. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

I automatically cradle her on my lap, swallowing again. This time, the knot in my throat is bigger, and my cock jumps.

I’m too shocked and too turned on to do anything except read the lines when Empire shakes the script in my face. “What do you think I want from you?” I ask, sounding strangled.

She shifts closer, her breath fanning my chin. “I think you want to fuck me.”

Goddamn it, the words shoot right down to my cock, and it hardens against her unmistakably. Empire’s eyes widen, and we both wait a beat, me to see what she’ll do or say, and her—she licks her lips.

SEVEN

He’s hard.

I’m not sure if it’s the lines or the fact that I’ve wedged myself on top of him, so into the scene that I didn’t realize exactly how far I’d gone until I felt his erection pressing between my legs.

Okay, maybe the scene is a little spicier than I thought it would be, but it’s easier to get into with someone else there. I have a living and breathing scene partner instead of my imagination and the expectations that died with my parents.

I clear away the mental cobwebs.

I nestle closer to Marcus, and his hands fall to the tops of my thighs. His eyes meet mine, a little confused and darker than their normal color. I give him a lazy smile before starting back up with my lines.

“And I think,” I continue as Alicia, “you want to fuck me right here on this couch. You don’t actually want my help with the house. You know why I came here today, Mr. Patterson. You know what I want too.”

“This isn’t right,” he argues, his voice soft and gruff at the same time.

His haze slowly roves down to the top of my shirt and back up, as though he’s studying my curves, getting himself under control with every second lost to the perusal. And even though I’m fully dressed, the look on his face strips me down to nothing.

A slither of awareness strokes tendrils of heat along my skin, and I realize it’s too late to back down now, to pretend this is nothing but a scene—to pretend my stomach isn’t turning itself into complicated knots at the proximity.

His hands are touching me, skimming along my hips and thighs. I’ve always loved reading about it in books, but I’ve never experienced it myself in real life. I feel him between my thighs.

Marcus, hard and thick and ready. All of him.

I clear my throat, sucking in a harsh breath through my nose and holding it inside. “What’s the matter? You don’t seem the type to hold yourself back in anything you do, Mr. Patterson,” I say on a breathy moan. “I’ve seen you around the neighborhood. I’ve seen how you talk to my parents.”

I feel him between my thighs, and something inside me contracts and loosens at the same time, my core overheated, molten. I’ve never been this turned on in my life. I’ve touched myself before, got a couple of toys that River and I got at a sex shop in downtown Hollywood. She’d gotten them for use while I’d bought mine as a joke, looking at the length and the vibration and wondering how in the world it was supposed to fit inside my body.

Marcus makes my vibrators look like what they are: toys.

I’ve even had guys touch me before, a couple of them, fumbling and inept and thinking they were God’s gift. They jackhammered their fingers against me and tried to get me off. Nothing like this.

“Stop.” His warning lacks all heat.

“What makes it not right, in your opinion?” I go off script and nip at the base of his chin. “Hmm? Because from where I’m sitting, it’s nothing but right.”

“You’re practically a child, Alicia,” Marcus manages. His voice is strangled as he wets his lips.

“I’m eighteen and about to graduate from high school. I’m a legal woman in the eyes of the law. What about in your eyes?”

“In my eyes, you’re forbidden in more ways than one,” he says. “You’re asking for trouble, and once we start down this road, there is nowhere to go except the finish line. Are you willing and able to deal with the consequences?”

I let myself go, but not before noting the way Marcus’ eyes glaze over. Something hot and dangerous glitters behind them, there and gone in a second.

“So tell me to move. If you’re afraid, then tell me, and I’ll leave.” I clear my throat and focus on the script the best I can. The words blur together. It’s too real as Marcus grips me, reads through his parts.

The words aren’t important, though, not really—only the sensation. Only the way heat curls in my stomach as his fingers lay hard against my skin, biting down deep before releasing, as though he has to cycle back around to remember not to bruise me.

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