“It’s early still. We can watch a movie, or just hang out. It doesn’t have to go beyond that.”
I press my lips together.
If I go in there with him, if this goes beyond that one blazing kiss we shared on Santa Monica Pier today, it’s just going to make it that much harder when the time comes where we have to say goodbye.
But indecision never built anything great.
Neither did living with regrets.
And I know I’ll regret it if I don’t take this chance.
I finally nod. “Let’s do it.”
He raises a brow at my choice of words, flashes a smirk at me, and opens the door.
His room looks exactly like mine, just flipped—and without make-up and hair products dotting random surfaces.
I walk over to the windows and look out at the same view I have, and in the reflection of the glass, I spot Gage heading straight toward me.
He stops by my side, and we look out there together.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he asks.
I nod and murmur a sound of agreement. “I never thought I’d really be here,” I say. I realize I’m almost letting slip the real reason why I’m here in Los Angeles, but I don’t just mean here as in California. I mean here in this place where by the end of the weekend, I’ll be battling it out for a place in a huge rock band.
“Why not?” he asks, and he bumps my shoulder with his.
I shrug and pretend like I meant California. “The farthest west I’ve been is Denver. I’ve just always wanted to visit.”
“You need to come to Vegas sometime,” he says.
“Why’s that?” I turn toward him and tilt my head.
“The strip clubs are phenomenal.”
I giggle and reach over to smack him in the chest with the back of my hand. He laughs.
“Can I get you anything? We could call room service and get some more margaritas.” He raises a brow.
“Probably not a good idea.” Or maybe the best idea I’ve ever heard. It might cut the nerves I’m feeling.
And then I realize...I have no reason to be nervous.
He wants this. He’s made that clear all day.
So maybe that feeling in the pit of my stomach isn’t nerves about what’s about to happen between us. Maybe it has more to do with the fact that I’m already in over my head. I already have feelings for him. I’m not going to want to let him go once this weekend is over.
“Why not?” he asks, and his voice is a little huskier than before.
“Well,” I say, turning in toward him and closing the gap between our bodies. I lace my arms around his waist. “If we order room service, then we’ll just be waiting around for them to deliver stuff, and then they’d be interrupting us.”
He wraps his arms around me, too. “From what?” he asks, his voice pure gravel as his eyes burn down into mine.
“From this,” I say, and I tilt my head back, push to my tiptoes, and press my mouth to his.
He groans into me, his big hands moving to my hips as he clutches me close. He pulls me against him, and I feel the hardness in his pants and the heat of his body. His tongue presses into my mouth, and then his hands move to my butt, where he tugs and lifts me until my feet are off the ground. I wrap my legs around him, and he carries me over to the bed.
Once we’re lying on the bed, I trail my fingers down his waist, where I feel the hard muscles I saw there this morning. I want to find purchase there, to take my time, to luxuriate in them, but the ache and need and desire roll together to push my hand down.
I toy with his belt buckle for a beat before I run my hand along him outside his jeans.
He’s lengthy.
He’s thick.
I knew that from the flash I saw this morning.
He’s hard.
Oh my God, is he hard. I rub my hand back and forth over him, and he thrusts toward me, like he’s trying to have sex with my hand. He grunts and growls appreciatively, and then he reaches his hand up under my shirt. His fingers trace lazily along my skin until he hits the bottom of my bra, and my hips thrust of their own accord toward him.
I need some friction.
I’m freaking dying over here.
He chuckles as my pace rubbing him over his jeans increases, like he knows what I need and he wants to tease me. He reaches under my shirt for my breast. He pulls at my bra cup until one of my boobs spills over, and then he thumbs my nipple, and the already searing ache between my legs somehow intensifies.
He brushes his thumb gently back and forth, and all I can think is that I wish it was his mouth and not his thumb, and so I decide to just do something about it. I move my hand from his jeans, shift a little, and shimmy out of my shirt. I unhook my bra and set it aside.
He stares appreciatively and hungrily down at my body, naked from the waist up.
“So gorgeous,” he whispers, and then he shifts so he’s over the top of me. I move my hands back down between us, and this time I unhook his belt while he kisses me. He trails wet kisses down my neck, down to the valley between my breasts, and then over until he sucks a nipple into his mouth.
I groan, my hips bucking up again, and even though I can hardly think straight, I keep doing what I’m doing. I get the belt undone and go for the button. I inch down the zipper.
And then I reach in with both hands. I use one to hold him at his base, and I pull him out over the top of his boxers and stroke him. His grasp on my nipple tightens as he gives into the pleasure.
I jut my chest up toward him, like I can’t get enough of being in his mouth while I give him a hand job. He reaches down, bypassing my button and zipper, and slides his hand right into my panties before he rubs my clit for a beat.
“Ahh,” I cry out, because what he’s doing to my body...well, I’m about at my limit of what I can take before I explode with need.
He dips his finger down inside me, and my hips move to ride his hand. He shoves his hips toward me, too, and I start to crack when he pulls his finger out and rubs it over my clit again.
My moans get louder, hitting toward the crescendo just as my body starts its freefall into bliss. I keep stroking him, the pressure of my hand increasing as my entire body tightens just before I spiral over the edge.
I groan my way through it, sparks dotting my vision and pleasure surrounding me like a blanket. I want to stop, and I want to lie in bliss for a second, but I don’t.
Because I want him lying in bliss alongside me. I want to share that moment of intimacy that only comes when you’ve hit a climax with someone you care about.
Someone you care about.
We’ve only spent one day together, and I realize how very much I already care about him.
He finishes, and we lie together for a few quiet moments before I head to the bathroom because I need a second to think.
I like Gage. A lot. He makes my tummy do flips, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles somehow makes my heart skip a beat every time, and I wish we had more time together.
I feel the expiration date looming over us.
My only option is to take advantage of the time we do have, push away the connection between us because it doesn’t matter, and enjoy every moment.
And then I’ll get my head in the game for the competition that lies ahead.
CHAPTER 16: LEXI
I stay the night in his room. We have a pillow fight and we talk about what we want out of life and we fall asleep watching a movie.