Page 23 of Take 2
“I love you more than movies.”
His lips bruise mine, and I arch up against him. He pulls back and rakes his eyes over me. “I love you more than anything.”
“You say that like you’re one-upping me, but for me that’s the sa—”
“I know.” He kisses a path up my inner thigh. “Watch the awards. I’m going to need you to tell me who wins later.”
Of course, when he sets to work undoing me with his mouth as he does so well, I can only drop my head back and close my eyes. “Fuck, Ryan.” I squeeze fistfuls of my skirt. My hips circle and thrust as he chases my orgasm. His tongue strokes up my center, and everything seizes up before I explode and melt. I pant as the licks and kisses soften, bringing me down.
Ryan emerges from my dress and arranges us so he’s sitting with my legs in his lap. “That’s my new favorite Oscars app.”
I laugh through the lingering orgasm haze. Words are out of reach as I watch the man I love take my high heels off and massage my feet. How did I get so lucky?
“Wow. Jean Dujardin can speak?”
What?I turn my head to see Dujardin accept the award for actor in a leading role. The two words he said inThe Artistare more than I can say now, so I’m in no place to judge. I reach for the remote and turn the TV off.
“There are still two more awards.”
I sit up and wrap myself around ‘Love Of My Life Ryan,’as he’s listed in my phone. I’m ‘Bella My Love,’ now, which I never tire of seeing. Similarly, I never tire of his skin against mine.
“We can check online tomorrow. Take me to bed.”
He doesn’t seem to mind that he missed the first time he was right about best picture.
Chapter Ten
Lastchancetobackout. Is meeting my dream director really worth spending more than five minutes with Preston? But it’s a trip to the Mediterranean.
But it’s with Preston. His incoming call vibrates in my hand.
Lisa could probably get my script in front of Rafael herself. But she will be so proud of me for taking an almost-not-work-related trip.
My phone is still ringing. I tap the green button. “You here?”
“Yeah.”
“Be right down.” Lights are off. A/C is in vacation mode. Cat is at Ashleigh’s. Purse has my wallet, passport, and sunglasses. Suitcase probably has more stuff than necessary. Laptop bag has all the work things.
It’s time to go.
Preston waits outside my building. He smiles when I come through the door, and I wonder if it was the ocean and the hypothetical dolphins that lulled me into agreeing to this. Now that he’s in front of me, the bright afternoon sun makes my motives look as suspicious as James made them out to be. Because even I cannot look at him without mentally cataloguing the perfect sweep of his hair, broad shoulders, and infuriatingly green eyes. A voice in my head reminds me, unhelpfully, that our rivalry is not the only reason I avoid him.
“Hi, Mira. I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.” He takes the handle of my suitcase and leads the way to a black Navigator with a driver in a suit and tie holding the back door open.
“Yet,” I say.
“It’s a little late for that.” He passes the bag to the driver and gestures for me to get in. I settle into the leather seat and fish my sunglasses out of my purse. Preston gets in on the driver’s side, and the chauffeur introduces himself as Sam as he slides into the driver’s seat.
“It’s not too late for me to change my mind,” I say. “You can’t drag me onto a plane kicking and screaming. People will think you’re human trafficking me.”
“Human trafficking—together—is not a verb.”
My chin drops, and my eyes narrow at Preston as we set off. “I’m not writing an academic paper. I’m a millennial. I can verb any noun.”
“Such as the word ‘verb.’”
“Exactly. And I’d prefer not to get any grammar tips from you, even if you are an Oscar-winning writer.”
