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The tickets weren’t for some mosh pit where the only possibly sexy thing that could happen was getting a bit of an icon’s sweat on you. No, they were for some sort of VIP box, which seemed to be so far away from the crowds you could barely even tell they were there. She had to keep going to the glass and looking down, just to make sure they really were. And that was the least of her problems.
Because the box itself looked like a fucking bedroom.
The walls were made out of what appeared to be red silk; the lighting was so dim she could barely see her hand in front of her face. And there was an actual couch that seemed closer to a bed than something you perched on to watch a concert. She sat down and immediately sank so far back she didn’t even have to look up to see the ceiling. Then of course he just sat right next to her.
So now they were practically lying down.
In what could only be described as darkness.
While Beyoncé crooned about doing it all night.
It was abominable. She almost wanted to cry.I think this might be starting to destroy me, she thought of saying to him. But the problem was: she didn’t know what was doing the destroying. She had no idea why this was coming over her in such intense waves. It never had before—not even with people who were her exact type, whom she was actually dating, and who absolutely found her attractive.
It was just happening, no matter what she did to curb it.
And she knew this because when he turned to look at her, there it was.
It just rose up through her body, like some kind of inescapable tsunami.
Even though he wasn’t doing anything. He was just gazing at her and gazing at her in this weird heavy-lidded way, and things seemed very hot and very tense suddenly, and then somehow, against all her better judgment and every bit of sense in her head, she found herself actually leaning toward him. Like you did when you wanted to kiss someone. Even though that couldn’t possibly be the case. There was no reason on earth for this to happen. No paps waiting to snap them, no stans or haters wanting to watch this little play they were trying to put on.
It was just them.
And this.
And one inescapable fact: she wanted to. Somehow, he made her want to, and he did it so hard and so strongly she couldn’t seem to fight it. All she could think about was getting thatmouth on hers again, no matter what the cost would be. And she knew the cost was going to be sky high. She could already see his eyes widening; he seemed to tense all over.
Like he couldn’t believe she was really doing what it looked like.
But that was fine because she couldn’t believe it, either.It’s like you’ve warped my brain with your ludicrously hot kissing, she wanted to yell at him. And the only thing that stopped her was him, leaning right back. Just a little, but he definitely did it. She felt the air stir between them, and the light in his eyes shifted. Now it wasn’t just surprise. It was something else.
Something soft and foggy, like before. Like at her door.
And when she made contact, he didn’t pull away. Quite the contrary—he made a sound, all long and low. The way people did when they sank into a warm bath, she thought.
Which seemed wild, it really did.
But not as wild as the hand he immediately slid over the nape of her neck.
Tenderly, it seemed to her. However, it also felt firm—as if he wanted to hold her there. As if he wanted to make sure there was even more contact than she was giving, and for a good amount of time. Though if she was being honest, she could understand that. After all, she didn’t think he’d lied about liking horny women.
And she couldn’t deny that she was very horny indeed.
Somehow, she had pushed herself right up against him. Her breasts were tight to his chest, and one of her thighs was almost over his. Then he shifted, andalmostsuddenly becameabsolutely. Now they were sitting with their legs all tangled together to the point where the bits in between were getting very close. In fact, a couple of times she was sure she felt something.
Something thick, and hard.
Like he really was affected this time.
And what was she supposed to do after that?
She couldn’t put the brakes on. Her body immediately forgot what brakes even were. All it wanted to do was squirm and wriggleand kiss in an increasingly lewd way, until finally she was just doing it in the hottest, wettest sort of manner she knew. But it was fine, it was good.
Because he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
She heard him groan again, and this one wasn’t open to interpretation. It wasn’tOkay that was quite nice but now I’m going to make a sandwichlevels of whatever. It was thick and deep and gravelly in a way that reverberated through her. She actually felt it pulse between her legs—and that was before he seemed to decide that he had had enough of her pushing him back into the couch.
And pushed back.
