Page 98 of The Romance Line
Her head falls back against the couch cushion, her eyes closing while her arms reach for me.
The gesture—the need in it—hooks into my heart.
I lower myself onto her, my body covering hers, then I find a pace and fuck her good and insistently until she’s moaning and begging me to make her come again.
Another thrust. Another drive into her. Another electric, white-hot connection, then she’s crying out once more.
I can’t even crow. I can’t even boast with athere we gobecause I’m too far gone. Words lose meaning as I stop fighting the pleasure. I give in to it, lust jolting through my body as I come hard, blurring out the real world.
I don’t want to return to it. The world is so much better like this, close to her.
33
A BRAND-NEW GAME
Everly
The Beast storms into the kitchen, losing his mind as Lumiere and Cogsworth make dinner for Belle.
I point to the TV screen my computer is casting to as the fuming beast blows his top. “See? That’s you. It’s totally you,” I say, as we lounge on the couch an hour later.
Max scoffs, then grabs a kernel of popcorn from the bag, tosses it in the air, and catches it on his tongue. “Can the Beast do that?”
“I bet he can. That seems like a Beast trick.”
Max rolls his eyes.
I poke his side. “C’mon. You even said you were going to bellow. I’m not wrong here, Lambert.”
As the Beast fumes in the film, Max grabs another handful from the bag. “What does it say about you that you like a beast?”
I arch a brow. “Did I say I like the Beast?”
“I’m pretty sure your three orgasms said you liked what the Beast did to you. Do you want me to give you another one just to be sure?”
I stare him down. “Are you threatening me with orgasms again? Because I could get into this brand-new game.”
Setting the bag on the table, he tugs me closer on the couch, then pulls my pink fleece blanket up to our waists. He’s in his boxer briefs and I’m wearing my hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts. The night is coasting close to midnight. I’m not sure what happens when the clock strikes twelve.
But I don’t see any signs that Max is leaving since we’re already in the middle of the flick, and he’s only getting comfier. When the Beast returns to his lair and demands the mirror show him the girl, Max takes another handful of popcorn, his gaze transfixed on the screen.
“You’re a popcorn junkie,” I say, more delighted than I should be about this detail. I don’t know why it excites me to know this about him. But it does.
“Because it’s fucking delicious.” He actually ordered a couple bags from Ding and Dine when he saw that I didn’t have any. “I can’t watch movies without popcorn.” Then he tilts his head, seeming thoughtful for a second. “I’m going to have to tell Asher that he was wrong when he said I hate everything.”
I’m too intrigued to leave that alone. “I’ll bite. What does that mean?”
As the movie plays on, he meets my gaze. “A few weeks ago when I was telling him about the circus you were dragging me to, he was giving me a hard time because he said I hate everything, and I maybe let on that I didn’t hate movie nights with popcorn.”
I take a beat, savoring this fact—this little true detail about Max Lambert. “So you’re doing a real favorite thing with me?Again?”
He tugs me closer on the couch, grazes those full lips along the side of my neck, traveling up to my ear. “Sunshine, I’m doing all sorts of real favorite things with you.”
He presses another kiss to my forehead and my whole body crackles and sparks. Electricity surges in me, chased by something warm and comforting.
The feeling is only intensified when he whispers, “Ask me to stay the night.”
My stomach swoops. “Is that one of your real favorite things?” Maybe I’m fishing for compliments, but I don’t care.