Page 5 of One Filthy Kiss

He lowers his arms and our lips meet. He entwines the fingers of his left hand with my hair, tilting my head backwards. He grips my chin with the thumb and index finger of his right hand and pushes his tongue between my lips.

And I don’t stop him.

I don’t stop him because I can’t feel my body.

All that exists in the moment is his tongue dancing with mine. The pressure of his lips, the feel of his hand in my hair, the amber flecks of those oh-so-beautiful eyes winking at me like he knew all along what effect he would have on me once I stopped resisting.

For one brief blissful moment, I forget where I am.

I forget that this is a film studio. I forget that I traveled to LA to watch my best friend in her first movie role. I forget that somewhere nearby, Amber is watching me kiss a complete stranger.

The image of Amber being restrained by the woman in the white shirt jerks me back to my senses.

But before I can twist my mouth aside and push the demi-god off me, his hands are gone, and he’s watching me with an expression that I can’t read.

Anger flares inside me. Not only did he kiss me withoutmy permission, but he chose when to end the kiss too, denying me the satisfaction of telling him to get his fucking hands off me.

“What was that?” I narrow my eyes.

My pulse is racing. I can still taste him. I can smell his uber-expensive cologne, and feel his hand in my hair, and I want to yell at him in front of all these people, that it’s fucking wrong to humiliate women this way.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Every part of me is clenched, and I wonder how badly it would hurt me if I punched him straight on that perfectly chiseled jaw.

“What the fuck is wrong withme?” His perfectly groomed eyebrows lower, and he appears genuinely perplexed.

I bet no one ever asked him that before.

“It was a kiss,” he says, and I can’t help staring at his lips. “We showed them how I want it to look onscreen.”

“Onscreen?”

My voice has abandoned me, leaving me to fight my own battles without it, like Ariel inThe Little Mermaid, and I have a vision of the sea-witch cackling in the background like she’d planned this all along.

The director appears from somewhere behind me and claps the demi-god on the back on his way to speak to Nikki and Arthur. “Okay, guys, let’s roll again.” He makes a circular motion with his hand.

I catch Nikki’s eye briefly before the director yells, “Focus!”

My anger subsides and is quickly replaced by guilt. This is Nikki’s moment, and I feel like I barged in and stole her thunder through no fault of my own. How dare this manthink that just because he’s arrogantly handsome he can get away with this.

“Look, I’m sorry.” His voice penetrates my thoughts; he has a slight accent, Mediterranean perhaps. “I didn’t think you’d object. You can use the scene as part of your portfolio if it’ll help.”

My portfolio?

I have no idea what he’s talking about until I glance up at the screen behind the director and watch our kiss being replayed.

“It was being filmed?”

I’m thinking out loud. The cameramen and crew are focused on Nikki and Arthur again, but I can see that Nikki is watching my reaction to seeing myself on TV wrapped in the arms of the hottest man to ever walk the planet.

“No.” I shake my head and walk away. “No. No. No.”

I need to find Amber and get away from here. Away from the film studio. Away from LA. My mind is already on fast-forward to what will happen when I get back to the UK. Where will we go? What if he’s waiting for us at the airport?

But the demi-god grabs my arm and swings me back around to face him. “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s not like it’s going to make the big screen. It was just a kiss.”

I square up to him, so close that our noses are almost touching. I’m beyond caring what this man thinks. All I care about is Amber.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.”