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I groaned. So she just naturally smelled like home baked goodness? Fuck me.
“I still can’t believe it. You are into me.” Sophia whispered. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” I had to smile at the wonder in her tone. She was so fucking cute. “So what are we going to do about it?”
Chapter Fourteen
Sophia
We should’ve had a rational conversation about what sex would do to our agreement. But I wasn’t feeling rational at the moment. Between the highly emotional day and our crazy sexual tension, it felt like my nerve endings were sizzling. So I did the only thing that made sense to me at that moment.
I leaned over and kissed him.
Me.
Little Sophia Elizabeth Scott made the first move with the crazy hot movie star.
He tasted faintly of the tequila we’d both drank, but his lips were velvety soft. There was a brief pause like he couldn’t believe I’d done it, and then he was all man, taking over and kissing me back. He groaned deep in his throat as one of his hands threaded into my hair and held me against him.
And we kissed.
We kissed like teenagers who’d just figured out how exciting kissing could be. We kissed like lovers who’d finally found their way back to each other. All passion and heavy breathing and electricity. I’d never felt anything like it before.
Finally, when neither of us could breathe, he pulled back slightly. “You sure?”
I shook my head slightly as I panted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of anything in my life.”
Mortification immediately hit me. I sounded so cheesy, like a bad rom-com heroine. Like I thought I was in love with him or something. I opened my mouth to backpedal when he spoke.
“Thank god.”
I had all of a second to register the change in gear. Rome had been pressed hard against me, and then he was gone. He scooped me into his arms in the traditional bridal over-the-threshold grip and carried me down the hall. Pongo yipped in excitement and raced us down the hall to Rome’s bedroom.
I buried my face in Rome’s neck and giggled. The hottest and arguably most romantic moment of my entire life—Seriously, when would a movie start literally carry me to bed ever again?—was ruined by a ridiculous race with a dog.
“You aren’t coming in with us, bozo,” Rome bit out.
But Pongo had other plans.
By the time Rome reached his bedroom, Pongo was standing in the middle of Rome’s California king sized bed, his tail wagging and a goofy grin on his face.
Rome set me down on my feet, keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders.
“Pongo. Out!” Rome thundered.
The Dalmatian whined, his tail dropping as he jumped off the bed.
“Nope. Don’t give me the look. This isn’t a threesome. Out.”
I muffled my laughter as Pongo slunk past us with his head down, the picture of abject rejection. It was ridiculous and goofy, and I almost felt bad for him.
Until I remembered why we were in here.
Rome shut the door behind his dog and turned to me with a wolfish smirk. “Now where were we?” His right hand came up and cupped my cheek. “I think I remember. Right about here.”
And he leaned down and kissed me again. Only this kiss wasn’t the hungry kiss from before. This time, Rome took his time. He moved his lips softly against mine, learning what made me gasp, what made me grip his shirt tight in my hands. My head was spinning, and we hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.
Still kissing me, Rome gently led me to his huge bed. He was all finesse and able to kiss while walking backward. I blindly followed him. His lips cruised down my neck, and he sucked at the delicate skin below my jaw. A wake of goosebumps spread across my skin.
