Page 80 of Forbidden Romeo
“Oh God, yes.” She lunged at me once more, her silky robe falling open, revealing the sheer nightgown and nude bodysuit she wore beneath it, giving me a glimpse of my future.
“Waiting a few more hours is going to be impossible,” I groaned.
Her eyes glinted as she glanced at the stage. “Well, we both get a preview in a few minutes,” she said, referring to our upcoming sex scene.
“Fuck me,” I groaned.
Hopping onto her toes, she nipped my bottom lip and whispered, “That’s the goal, Holden.”
McCay told us weeks ago that the Romeo and Juliet love scene was one of the most controversial in history. It’s not exactly written into the script. There aren't any lines. Some productions choose to nix it altogether and start Act 3, Scene 5 with Romeo and Juliet waking up in bed the next morning.
But that wasn’t McCay’s style.
She was nothing if not controversial.
I rushed on the stage and ran my clammy hands over my pants. The show was more than halfway over and I still couldn’t get my shit together.
It didn’t help that I was still tipsy from nearly finishing the gin in my mom’s flask.
Nervous energy rippled through my guts until I looked up to find Katherine sitting on the edge of the bed, clad only in her silky nightgown costume.
Her small breasts heaved with a massive exhale when she saw me, her eyes flashing with desire as they skimmed down my open shirt.
Fuck.
She looked…
She looked incredible.
So incredible that my cock grew hard immediately seeing her like that. Knowing she wanted me and got off on a little bit of voyeurism made me throb for her.
I slowly crossed the stage to her, our eyes locked. My focus was back, the nervous jitters still present, but for the first time in the entire show, I felt grounded here with Katherine. Up until I caught a glimpse of her tongue slipping through her lips, wetting them.
She was going to be the fucking death of me.
Still sitting on the bed, she allowed me to take my time coming to her, her expression a potent combination of pure innocence and wanton lust. And the juxtaposition of the two was a fucking wet dream to any red-blooded man.
I cupped her face, tilting her mouth up to mine and skimmed my thumb across her cheekbone, so razor sharp, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she could cut me and make me bleed.
Her lips parted for me, an offering, and I took them like the starving man I was, grunting at how fucking good she tasted.
She melted against me as I gathered her in my arms and I swallowed her little whimper of surprise as I delved my tongue into her mouth. Fuck the fucking rules of stage intimacy. Did they want this to look realistic or not? Didn’t they want untenable chemistry?
If there was one thing Katherine and I could provide, it was that.
The heat between us was scorching; an out of control inferno and Katherine and I were the crumbling houses losing their foundation.
Her hands found my shoulders beneath my open shirt and she pushed it down off my arms. I tossed it aside before yanking her nightgown off and tugging the prop sheet over us.
Within moments, Katherine had my pants undone, as McCay had blocked us to do and she tossed them aside, downstage of the bed, so the audience got the full illusion we were naked.
Effectively, we almost were.
Katherine’s flesh-toned bodysuit did nothing to conceal her hard nipples pushing against the thin fabric. A damp spot had already appeared between her legs and I groaned, desperate to sink inside that soaking wet heat of hers.
My boxer briefs also did nothing to conceal how fucking turned on I was in the moment.
All in all, we were screwed.