Method

“Wow,” I mouth. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh, like you just played fair?”

“Touché.”

“So,” he says, slipping my bra on and fastening it without issue, “there is this extremely beautiful, intelligent, woman I’m crazy about and want to get to know better, but I have this work obligation coming up, and I was wondering if I should ask her to wait for me?”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Seven weeks. We’re doing most of the principal photography in Cairo.”

“Hmm…That’s a lot to ask from someone you’ve only been on two dates with.”

/> “Yeah,” he agrees, stroking my nipples through my bra with deft thumbs. I sink into his touch.

It’s his hands, definitely his hands.

“But I have this feeling she wants to wait for me.”

“You do?”

“I have to play this just right though. This isn’t just any woman.”

“No?”

“No,” he grins, gesturing for me to lift my arms before he slides on my T-shirt.

“And what if she doesn’t agree to wait?”

“She could be the one to break my heart.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s not get dramatic.”

“Hazard of the job,” he says before he leans in taking my lips. His kisses are deep and leisurely, the best kind.

He captures my lip between his teeth. “Don’t ever try to deny me your kiss again.”

“Now we’re giving orders?”

His expression changes as does his tone, both filled with authority. “I like you, Mila. A lot.” He places my hand on his chest and covers it with his own. “And if you don’t like me the same, you damned sure shouldn’t have slept with me.”

I shrug doing a horrible job of playing coy. “Meh, you’re okay. You could use a shower.”

His expression doesn’t change. “So what do you say?”

“I’ll think about it.” It’s a pretty lie. Even if it only turns out to be the best sexual chemistry in history, it’s worth waiting for.

As soon as we’re dressed, he pulls me into his lap and gives me a kiss that lasts until the knock sounds at the door.

Later that night I lay in bed, my head racing with should haves. I left shortly after they called him back to the set. I didn’t want any part of watching him touch another woman. Acting or not, I’m just not the type. Maybe if I got to a point where I was more comfortable and secure in whatever we have brewing, but we were too new. And that’s if I didn’t ruin it by letting my blazing libido take over. Tossing in my bed, I kick off the sheets and sit up, completely restless when I swipe my phone, and it lights up with the time. 4:45 am. It’s then I see a text Lucas sent hours ago.

Lucas: Don’t you dare regret it.

I decide not to reply. I didn’t want him thinking I was up doing precisely that. After another twenty minutes of staring into space, I throw my covers off and head toward my kitchen, flinching when I hear pounding at my front door. Peeking through the hole, I jerk back when I see Lucas peering through it.

Without thinking, I open it to see him leaning in on the frame, his eyes blazing a trail from my bare feet up to my panties and cami.

He looks so incredible, his hair damp, in well-fitting dark jeans, a long-sleeved zipped hoodie, and sand-colored boots, his breaths coming fast as if he’s just run miles to get to my door. Everything inside clenches in memory of his touch.