Sutton placed a hand on her belly, as if she could quell all the feelings, all the emotions, all the desire he’d stirred in her. To say those things in front of everyone. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and smother him in kisses. Forget all the make-believe. She was ready to go all in.
But yet, she knew better. She had to guard her heart. She had to be strong. She must refuse to let herself be seduced by the act.
“And I guess, most of all it’s that she chose me. She’s the kind of woman who could have anyone, but she chose me,” Reeve said as he looked deeply into Sutton’s eyes. She forced herself to feel nothing as he held onto her gaze, even though she felt everything for him. Every. Single. Thing. And it was killing her. “So really, when you find someone you’re crazy about, you don’t let her go, right?”
Janelle clasped a hand on her mouth. She looked as if she were about to cry happy tears. “I think I need more wine,” she said. “Would you mind grabbing that fabulous bottle you brought earlier?”
“No problem,” Reeve said and stood up, holding a hand for Sutton.
Once inside the wine closet-slash-cellar, she turned to him. “That was quite a performance.”
Her voice seemed cold. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Absolutely,” she said, as she searched for the bottle. “It was all a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Totally. Because you know what I’d have said if I’d told the truth?” He grabbed her arm, gripping her wrist tightly, and spinning her around so she was facing him, wine bottles on either side of them.
“What? That I made you a deal? That I promised you an audition? That it was all trumped up?”
“No,” he said, anger in his voice. “I would tell that you are hot and cold. That it makes me crazy. That I can’t read you, and I can’t figure you out. That one minute you are all over me and the next you push me away. That I want you so badly, and I love the way you are, but that I find you totally absolutely crazy-making at the same time. And that makes me want to just push you out of my life.”
“So push me out,” she said, challenging him.
“Yeah? That’s what you want?”
“Absolutely,” she said in that crisp, too-controlling voice. “Just push me out. I’ll be on my way, and you’ll be on your way, and it’ll be all fine, as if this week never happened. We’ll both get what we want.”
“Will we?” he asked, moving in closer to her. “Will we get what we want?”
“Yes, of course. And then you can go, like you want to.”
“What if I don’t want to?” he said, sliding another inch near to her. They were so close now, he could almost see the waves of anger radiating from her tense, tight body.
“What do you want then, Reeve? What could you possibly want?”
“What if I want you?”
She closed her eyes briefly, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. He wished he had the secret code to her heart, like he had to her body. “You don’t though,” she said in a resigned voice. “You don’t want me.”
“I do,” he said roughly, gripping her arm. Then he loosened his hold on her, but still held her close. She was shaking the tiniest bit, and he worried that he’d scared her. “Sutton,” he said, lowering his voice. “You make me crazy, and I want you. I totally want you. So much. In every way. Every real way.”
He dropped a hand to her waist, and felt her move her body into his touch.
“You do?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“For real?” she asked, and her voice wavered.
He wanted to hold her and reassure her, so he placed a hand gently on her cheek and looked in her eyes. “Those kisses? They were not fake. I promise. And this? Right now,” he said, stopping to brush his lips against her, so softly, so gently, he heard her gasp. “Not an act, either.”
“Reeve,” she said. “I’m not pretending with you. I’m totally not pretending at all.”
“Neither am I.” He ran his hands along her sides, over the fabric of her dress, feeling the heat from her body. “And this, right now? This is real. When I turn you around, and lift up your dress, and slide into you—that won’t be an act. But I’ll only do it if you say yes to me, Sutton.”
She looked up at him, and she was soft and vulnerable. She was the Sutton who liked books, the Sutton who let herself be saved, the Sutton who wanted to know who Reeve really was. She was the woman he’d loved getting to know better this crazy, topsy-turvy week.
“Right here?”
He nodded.
She swallowed. Breathed out. Nodded. “Yes.”
Then she turned around, placed her hands between two wine bottles, bracing herself against the wooden rack. He hiked her skirt up to her hips and slid a hand between her legs, rewarded with his favorite thing in the world. How ready she was for him. Her panties were damp, and as he touched the cotton panel between her legs, he could feel the wetness all the way through. He reached inside his wallet, took out a condom, opened it and put the wrapper back into his pocket. He unzipped the pants she’d bought for him, lowered his boxer briefs, and rolled on the condom. Like her, he was more than ready. He was aching to be inside her. Deftly, he drew her panties down to her knees, and angled her hips up slightly. She arched back, an invitation. He slid two fingers across her and she breathed out hard at his touch. Her body was trembling—she wanted this so much. She wanted him so much. As he glided his fingers against her, he knew exactly how ready she was for him. God, she needed it, she needed him so badly right now, just as much as he needed her. He stroked her more, grinning as she gasped and leaned her head back. She was so turned on, and her readiness made him even harder.
“I’m pretty sure you’re ready now,” he said.
“I’m so ready.”
He pushed against her wetness, groaning as he began to enter her. She was silky and soft and tight, and soon he filled her up, pausing to savor the absolute f**king fantastic feeling of being inside her.
“Does this feel good?” he asked in a soft voice.
“It feels incredible, Reeve. I love the way you fill me up.”
He rocked into her. “How much do you love it?”
“I’m so f**king turned on.”
“More than you have ever been before?” he asked as he slid almost all the way out, making her moan.