Capture (Seaside Pictures 1)

Not that I was complaining.

He rocked into me, my back connected with the wall. With a possessive growl, he nipped my lower lip then started kissing down my neck. Kissing in public had never been my thing — but maybe that was because I'd never kissed Lincoln.

I would kiss him anywhere.

All he needed to do was ask.

Body humming with pleasure, I let out a little gasp as his warm lips met the pulse on my neck. Then his tongue licked where his lips had just been.

His knee rose higher and higher as my body sank onto his; the first contact of his leg had my body screaming with pleasure — just a little higher, just a little more.

"Cut!" someone shouted, though it didn't sound like Jaymeson.

Suddenly, Demetri was pulling Lincoln away from me and glaring daggers at both of us. "I think you guys got the scene."

Embarrassed, I looked down, tucking my silky hair behind my ear. Did I really almost just dry hump Lincoln Greene's leg? In front of about twenty people, including my sister?

"You sure?" Lincoln asked, voice hoarse. I glanced up at him, his chest was heaving with exertion, his lips swollen. "Because I could have sworn I messed up my lines."

"There are no lines, you bastard," Demetri muttered under his breath.

"Damn it!" Jaymeson shouted. "Hey, guys, I'm going to need you to shoot it one more time. Remember, Lincoln, you're supposed to proposition her."

Lincoln grinned smugly at Demetri.

Demetri didn't move.

I sighed and then tapped him on the shoulder and nodded my okay.

"I saw tongue." Demetri pointed at Lincoln. "We both know that's not necessary. This isn't a brothel."

I almost burst out laughing at Demetri's knowledge of the word brothel. That, mixed with his protectiveness, wasn't something I was used to from him. He was usually too easy going.

"Places!" Jaymeson yelled.

Nervous anticipation trickled down my spine as the scene was slated, and Lincoln was facing me again, his features a mask of complete and utter seduction. Throat dry, I waited for the kiss.

Once his mouth was on mine again.

I realized.

His kisses weren't the type you could physically prepare yourself for — the feeling wasn't something my body would ever get accustomed to.

Lincoln's hands cupped my face and then tilted my cheek to the side as he whispered in my ear, "We should take this somewhere… private."

A foreign moan escaped between my lips, and his mouth was on mine again, this time his tongue outlining the seam of my lips before he tugged my lower lip with his teeth, drawing my body closer to his.

"Cut!" Jaymeson yelled.

Lincoln kept an arm around me as he led me back to the guys. My legs wobbled. Alec was pacing in front of Jaymeson like a worried mother, and Demetri was in the process of pulling off his shirt and dabbing his chest with napkins.

"My scene was that hot, huh?" Lincoln teased.

Demetri glared but continued to pat his tan, perfect body. "This… this is worry sweat, not hot, lustful, holy-shit-it's-Lincoln-Greene sweat, you vain, slutty, little piece of—"

"Good job." Jaymeson shoved Demetri out of the way, nearly sending him colliding with one of the crew. Cursing ensued as something loud clattered to the floor. I think that something was Demetri. "I think my favorite part was when a certain retired manwhore decided to ruin the entire scene with his mental breakdown."

Demetri dusted himself off, stood, and gave Jaymeson the finger.

I chewed my lower lip, still tasting Lincoln.

"Okay, Lincoln, it's back to Pris. We'll just film her reaction, and then you run after her, got it?"

I was left forgotten, suddenly extremely uncomfortable in my own skin, my dress too tight and hot, my lips still buzzing with awareness.

Alec came by me and stood as the next scene was slated.

His anger was so tangible I felt like I was swimming in it. He waited a few minutes before talking.

"He's really good at what he does," Alec whispered.

I gulped. Yeah, I'd gotten that part. He was a god at what he did. If kissing was an actual occupation, he'd have a doctorate.

"But…" Alec reached for my hand and gripped it.

I glanced up at him.

"… it's a job, Dani. It's…" He exhaled roughly. "… it's not real, you get that, right?"

I jerked my hand away in horror. I didn't have my phone on me so I couldn't type him the message I wanted to; besides, it would have a lot of cursing in it, and I knew that would amuse him more than anger him.

"Aw, don't get pissed." Alec grabbed my hand again, refusing to let me pull away this time. His grip tightened around my fingers. "I'm protective, okay? You're important to us, and I don't want you thinking that what just happened means anything beyond this scene today. I know you're a smart girl."

Then treat me like one! I wanted to yell.

"You're seventeen," he explained slowly as if I wasn't aware of my own stupid age. "You're so young still, and he's…" Alec shook his head and watched the scene play out. Lincoln went running after Pris. "He's Hollywood — they're born cynical and get even worse as the days progress. You don't want any part of that, no matter how nice it may look, or—" His eyes met mine. "—taste."

Was Alec Daniels really having a dad talk with me? And did he just say taste? Never in my life had I been so uncomfortable.