Wish You Weren't Here (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter Fifteen

Lewis Sheridan is kissing me, and it turns out that little "show kiss" from last night couldn't be further removed from the real thing.

All control has gone out of the window for a start - on both of our parts. Our lips surrender to each other, while our tongues desperately battle for supremacy; and his hands roam frantically over my body, as if trying to find the perfect position to relocate to. We're both breathing hard, and I can hear his heart thudding against his chest. Or maybe it's my heart I'm hearing? At this point, we're pressed so tightly together that I'm not really sure where I end, and he begins.

"Bedroom?" Lewis suggests. At least, I think that's what he says; his query is muffled against my mouth. I mumble something incoherent in response, unwilling to stop this kiss either. Like I told him before, it's been a long time for me . . . And this feels so damn good!

I'm slightly mortified to find myself whimpering when he pulls away, and his husky laugh is wicked. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather make it to the bed without hurting myself en route," he tells me. And then he actually picks me up and carries me back up the steps to the bedroom.

"Neanderthal," I mutter as he deposits me on the mattress, but I know I'm smiling.

"You know you love it," he smirks in response. He lies down beside me, turning to face me, and his expression becomes serious. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, one hand cupping my cheek as he stares into my eyes. I nod. "And it's just a one-off . . . right?"

"That's all it can ever be," I reply firmly, reassuringly. There's no way we could be anything more. Even if I am currently melting under his touch.

He swallows, his eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds. Then his gaze is penetrating me again. "Okay," he says softly. "Okay." And he presses his lips to mine once more, gently this time, with none of the desperation of the previous kiss. It's slow and sensual, and it feels like he intends to savour every minute. It's glorious. He bites down lightly on my bottom lip, and I moan in response, sensation coursing through my veins. "I'm going to take my shirt off now," he tells me, sitting up.

"I think it's important you do." I can't resist a little bit of snark. "It's a truly heinous crime to fashion."

"Ha, I think you like it more than you're letting on!" His voice bubbles with mirth as he opens enough buttons to be able to pull it over his head easily. And then those abs are revealed in all their glory!

"Much better," I find myself purring, and he laughs.

"If I'd known you preferred me topless, maybe I'd have stripped for you a long time ago," he tells me, straddling me and bending back down to kiss me before I have a chance to consider the meaning of that sentence any further. I can't resist tracing my palms over those stomach muscles. They are very, very good, as is the smooth golden skin that stretches across them. I decide to explore further, moving down towards his shorts, and as my fingers graze their contents, he jerks back slightly.

"I'm trying to take things slowly here," he chides me.

"Sorry, sir," I giggle, channelling the naughty schoolgirl character I briefly thought about earlier. His gaze darkens at my words, and he slides the straps of my camisole top down my arms, making it easier to free my chest. He hisses out a breath between his teeth, eyes narrowing as he takes me in.

"You are so fucking sexy, Ruby." I feel it in that moment. And I know he means it - I can see it written all over his face. He lowers his head and his lips close over one nipple, swirling his tongue around it while manipulating the other breast with his free hand. My nipples have always been ridiculously sensitive, but now their responsiveness is way off the scale . . . and they're sending intense signals down my body to the place I crave him even more. Lewis somehow receives that message, too.