Anyone But the Superstar (Anyone But You #3)

Chapter 17

17

LIZ

He tastes like tomato.

And while that taste made me gag a second ago, I find it damn delicious on Felix’s lips. ‘Hmmm.’

Yet, just as I lean into the kiss, he pulls back, his eyes moving back and forth between mine. ‘“Hmmm” as in keep going, or “Hmmm” as in stop?’

Thus far, I’ve managed to use drawing slightly pornographic pictures of him as an outlet for my built-up attraction. But after today’s scripted poolside kiss and now his impromptu one, I’m not about to hold back. Not after he was willing to poison himself rather than hurt my feelings.

I slide off my stool, then fist my hands in his shirt to yank him off his. ‘“Hmmm” as in let’s do this, Hollywood.’

Eye wide, he laughs. ‘Hollywood?’

Smoothing out his t-shirt, I run my palms over his chest. ‘You prefer Johnny Douchebag?’

His expression flattens. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Well then.’ With only my fingers curling over his shoulders as a warning, I jump, straddling him, unsurprised when Felix’s hands instinctively cup my ass to hold me. ‘Let’s do this.’

He manages to sidestep out between the stools and walk down the hall with me attacking his neck, ears and face like a starved octopus.

And I am.

Not an octopus. But starved.

I never denied I was attracted to him. I just denied myself action. Which I only managed to do because I held onto the numbing cream grudge for far too long.

It took Mike Hunt and eggshells in rice to finally break down the barriers I’d built around my libido.

In a few strong strides, we’re in my room, and I’m dropped on the bed. With the floodgates now open, my hands have his belt unbuckled before my ass stops bouncing.

Felix chuckles. ‘You in a rush?’

I answer by nearly whipping myself in the face with the leather strap as I move it aside to get to his button. ‘Well—’ I nod at the bulge below my hands ‘—you’re hard.’ I pop the button and lower the zipper.

Shoving his jeans to the floor, I reach for his boxer briefs. They’re red.

‘Um, yeah.’ Felix huffs a laugh. ‘Why wouldn’t I be hard?’

I stare, transfixed, as his ab muscles clench and retract in tandem as my index fingers slide back and forth under the waistband.

It’s well known that women have a thing for grey, but honestly, that’s only because they haven’t seen Felix Jones in red. I make a mental note to write to the Calvin Klein marketing people about this so they can rectify his billboard.

Felix reaches out a hand, trailing one finger down the side of my jaw, breaking my concentration .

Narrowing my eyes on his rather smug face, I pull the waistband out and let it snap back, smirking when he winces. ‘Well, with your situation , it’s best to take action as soon as possible before…’

Belying the erectile issues I was about to mention, his dick – long and hard – does what the belt did not.

Smacks me in the face.

I pull back, blinking. ‘Oh.’

One eyebrow quirks over his doubly self-satisfied expression. ‘Before what now?’

Face hot, I refocus on his glorious dick. ‘Shut up.’

Chuckling, Felix crosses his arms over his chest, seemingly at ease with his hard-on half an inch from eye-maiming me. ‘No, really.’

Really , I am seriously horny.

But he seriously needs to shut up.

His smile forms a playful curve. ‘I’d love to hear what you were saying about my situa?—’

I fill my mouth in order to close his, taking his cock as deep as I can.

‘Ahhh.’ His hands drop to my head, fisting in my hair.

My plan works.

‘ Caramba, isso é bom .’

Kind of. But at least now he’s saying what I want to hear. In the language I want him to speak.

His fingers tighten, then release, as if worried he’s going to hurt me. I grab his ass and pull him closer, letting him know I’m okay.

He allows his body to rock forward an inch, but I know he’s holding himself in check.

Releasing one ass cheek, I use that hand to hold the base of his dick, sliding it up and down as I bob, trying to keep my mouth loose enough to lap my tongue underneath but still suck hard enough to make him groan.

‘ Adoro a tua boca .’

I don’t have much time to feel victorious before his hands find the hem of my shirt and lift, my mouth popping off his hard-on and my shirt off my body.

Feeling helpful, I take care of my bra before Felix grips my ribcage and tosses me further up the bed.

‘Now who’s in a hurry?’ My tease is met with a growl before he begins the awkward action of toeing off his shoes under the pants bunched around his ankles.

It’s endearing.

The awkwardness, not the growl.

The growl is straight-up sexy and makes the panties I start shimmying out of extra wet.

Finally freeing himself of pants, Felix tosses a condom he must’ve retrieved from his pocket beside me on the bed.

Not hesitating, I grab it and begin reading the small print on the back.

‘It’s normal.’ Felix raises a hand, crossing a finger over his heart. ‘Promise.’

It’s hilarious how he thinks magnums are normal. But as he’s already hard and smug, I don’t mention it.

Having confirmed there’s zero benzocaine in the condom, I drop it next to me and crook my finger. ‘You need me to yell action?’

Scoffing, he places both hands on the foot of the bed and crawls over me, caging me in. ‘You can direct me anytime.’

Maybe it’s because this isn’t our first rodeo (so to speak). Or maybe it’s all the time we’ve spent living together. Or maybe it’s just part of the instant attraction I felt the moment I clapped eyes on that mange-worthy beard of his. But it hits me how comfortable I am with Felix.

Some people might think comfortable is synonymous with passionless. Not me.

I’m comfortable in that I’m not worried I might do something Felix might not like. Nor am I scared of not living up to his expectations, or him mine. And I find feeling comfortable enough to both care about his pleasure and be self-assured enough to demand my own incredibly hot.

Especially when I realize that, up until now, I’ve never had both.

Huh .

Leaving that thought for another day, I examine Felix’s heated expression as I grab his hand and direct it to my clit.

‘So wet.’ Bracing his weight on one hand above my shoulder, he circles my clit with his other, dipping his fingers inside me. ‘ T?o quente .’

His thumb stays pressed against my clit, and first one, then two fingers thrust inside.

I arch back. ‘Hmm, yes.’

The pressure changes, lightens as his thumb moves back and forth in short, fast motions, almost like a vibration.

‘Oh God. That’s good.’ I spread my legs further, my thigh muscles clenching, my clit pulsing. ‘Do that. Keep doing that.’

He does. And it’s a testament to his workouts that he’s able to remain balanced above me on one arm as I wrap my legs around his waist.

Yet it’s the crook of his fingers that finally does it.

‘I’m coming.’ Tensing around him, my heels dig into his ass.

The touching and massaging of my spot continue as the lapping waves of pleasure swell .

‘Fuck, I’m coming.’ Cresting the tsunami-like orgasm, my body spasms and lifts off the bed.

Still his arm holds strong as I ride out my orgasm, clinging to him like some kind of spider monkey in heat.

It isn’t until the last ebbs of heat fade, and I drop back to the mattress that he moves the hand between my legs and pushes himself back, grabbing the condom as he goes.

Through half-mast eyes, I watch him tear open the foil packet with his teeth.

Condom in one hand, he wraps his other around the base of his cock, stroking it as he stares between my legs. Watching him watch me makes me wetter. Hotter. But just as I’m about to reach for him, I have a sudden thought.

Maybe there’s another reason – besides making me wet – for the self-stroking.

Wanting to be as considerate to him as he is to me, I lift on my elbows and meet his eyes, wanting to give him, and not just his dick, my full attention.

Felix frowns, his cock-stroking hand pausing.

‘Just know—’ taking a breath, I attempt to rid myself of the impatient desire that Felix has stoked high and hot inside me ‘—that if you need to stop at any point, or if there is something I can do to keep—’ my eyes drop to his erection still hard and long in his fist ‘—everything in working order, just let me know.’ I nod, satisfied that we can have this kind of conversation even in the heat of the moment. ‘I’ll help however I can.’

I smile, pleased with how comfortable we are with each other.

And yet Felix does not look comfortable. His mouth flattens and his eyes narrow. He looks… vexed. ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’

Extremely horny but vexed .

‘Uh…’ I guess just because I’m comfortable doesn’t mean Felix is.

Guys are weirdly sensitive about the working order of their dicks.

‘Sorry.’ I strive for a look of understanding, but seeing as I don’t really understand, I’m sure I don’t quite nail it.

Felix holds my eyes with his narrowed gaze and rolls on the condom.

‘I didn’t mean to spoil the mood.’ I try for a smile for it feels awkward. ‘I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to push yourself.’

His nostrils flare twice before I’m unceremoniously flipped on my stomach. I have just enough time to push up onto my hands and knees before Felix thrusts inside.

Then I break out into song.

Not really. Maybe. I’m not sure.

But the pressure, hot and heavy and pushing deep inside me, makes me feel fucking lyrical.

Felix

‘How’s that for pushing myself?’

‘Good.’ She gasps as I swivel my hips. ‘So good.’

Her voice is high, and weirdly sing-songy. But the words are all I need to keep going.

To show her that the numbing condom was never needed. That her concern over my erection, while thoughtful, is completely unfounded.

And that there is absolutely nothing fucking wrong with my dick .

Digging my fingers into her hips, I pull back and slam my dick inside, the way smooth thanks to her thick arousal.

‘Ahhh.’ She drops her head to the mattress, her heart-shaped ass rising in my hands.

Her moans sound like music notes. And with each thrust, I can hear her desire sucking me in. The sounds together make the sweetest song I’ve ever heard.

‘Felix…’

I take that back. My name on her lips is the sweetest.

Pausing my thrusts, I curl around her, sliding my hands up and then under – teasing her nipples until they’re peaked and hard. ‘ Sim, gatinha? ’

‘More.’

My lips, resting against her back, smile at her whispered demand.

Moving my hands farther up, I hook them over her shoulders, pulling back until we’re both upright, her back against my front.

‘ Fuuuuck .’ The drawn-out curse, said in unison, echoes in the room as my cock settles even deeper.

I turn my head into her neck, inhaling her scent, kissing my way down her shoulder. In the mirror beside the bed, I catch sight of her – blonde hair draped over my shoulder, pebbled nipples, her strong, lean legs straddling my thighs as my cock burrows inside her.

‘Meow.’

Both Anne and I tense as Mike jumps onto the bed in front of us.

I don’t even flinch as Mike reaches a paw toward my thigh. ‘No.’ Instead, I draw on all my past action movie experience and engage in the villain before me in an epic stare down. ‘Absolutely not. ’

He lowers his paw to the bed. ‘Meow.’ Somehow, Mike manages to imbue both hurt and menace into his cry.

Pointing an arm at the door, I hold firm, making a mental note to ensure the door is securely locked before falling asleep tonight if I want to avoid retribution maiming while I sleep. ‘Out.’

He turns tail, but instead of bounding down the way he came, he lands first on Anne’s side table, knocking over her sketch pad before jumping down to the floor.

‘Wow—’ Anne shifts suggestively on my lap, causing a spark of pleasure to shoot down my spine ‘—it was kind of hot when you got all domineering like that.’

At any other time, on any other day, I would be 100 per cent consumed with what makes Anne hot, but right now, I’m too captivated by the sketch book lying open on the floor.

‘Is that me?’

Anne follows my line of sight to the floor. ‘Is what yo—’ She claps a hand over my eyes. ‘Oh shit.’

I wince behind her palm. ‘I take that as a yes.’

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

Pulling her hand away, I trap it at her side, then do the same with her other by locking an arm around her mid-section. I flex, both arms – one across her chest, the other over her abdomen – holding her trapped against me and take a good long look at the proof that Anne has not been as unaffected by me as she made out. ‘It looks like I need to tell my stylist to invest in blue ruffle ensembles.’

Her skin, flushed from desire, goes red. ‘I?—’

I thrust. She moans.

Lifting my ass off my heels, I make short, strong movements as my arms hold her in place. With her legs spread out over my thighs, and her arms trapped beside her body, all she can do is take it. ‘It looks like you’ve been thinking some pretty kinky things.’

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

Each thrust brings another moan, vindication for my new-found need to punish in the bedroom. Never have I wanted such control. Such dominion. But then again, never have I felt so out of control with a woman. From the very first moment we met, she’s had me breaking all my rules. Left me feeling like a cat on a leash.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

It’s only fair she gives me this.

‘Oh my God.’ Her hands, still trapped at her sides, reach for me, claw at my sides. ‘I’m gonna come, I’m gonna?—’

I watch in the mirror as her mouth opens, her body jerks, helpless under my hold. No sound, just a breathtakingly beautiful silent scream of pleasure as I continue to move.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

On a ragged inhale, she starts to cry. ‘Wait, Felix. I just— fuck .’

We have waited. I feel like we’ve waited forever.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

‘Something’s—I… oh, oh God.’ Her head, the only thing free to move, twists and turns, her hair flying out in every direction. Bathing me in her scent.

Citrus. Sweet but tart. Just like her.

‘ Apanhei-te .’ I don’t have her. Not really. And the knowledge makes me thrust harder, faster, as if punishing her for not giving me everything I want. Things I didn’t know I wanted until right now. ‘ Deixar ir, gatinha ,’ I whisper. ‘Let go.’

‘I’m coming…’ Her nails dig deep. ‘Oh God.’ She writhes again, her head now in the direction of the mirror. Our eyes meet. ‘Felix…’

Thrust .

This time, her orgasm isn’t silent, and she doesn’t feel it alone. Both of us, sweaty, loud and shaking, come together.

Her – eyes closed, a tear trailing down her cheek only to merge into the beads of sweat spreading across her body.

Me – chest heaving from the best workout of my life and eyes fixated on the open sketch book.

Moments tick by as both of us calm down, our breathing evening out. Only then do I find the strength to lift her off my dick and lay her gently on the bed.

I step into the bathroom as she basks in the afterglow, a small Mona Lisa smile on her lips.

When I return, her smile’s still in place but her eyes are fully closed. Thinking she’s sleeping, I move to retrieve her sketch book. But just as I bend beside the bed, Mike shoots out from underneath it and plops his bare ass on top of my face. The face Anne drew.

The feline’s expression is the definition of defiance. I recognize retribution when I see it.

‘Touché, Mike.’ I nod, acknowledging his move. ‘Touché.’

Leaving Mike to his revenge, I climb in next to Anne, spooning behind her.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

And if that’s true, it’s almost enough to keep me from sleep thinking about what I’d give to hear just a few of those words from Anne.

Almost.