Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

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"Okay, for this one I'm seeing a real Bogart and Becall vibe."

I look over at where Wisteria is standing in the slinky dress. It might fall all the way down to the floor but there's a slit in it up to her hip and the front of it comes down into a deep vee. Not to mention the damned thing clings to her like a second skin. There is no way she has underwear on under it. No fucking way.

It just infuriates me even more.

When I came into the library and saw her and Aaron laughing about something, my temper got away from me. I wanted to take Wisteria down to the floor and show Aaron just who she belongs to, while at the same time hitting him right in his face. I was trying to figure out how to do both at the same time when she gave him that smile.

"So, I am thinking, Banner, you can be the big strong man and maybe pull her into a dip, oh yeah, just like that."

I reach for her and pull her into my arms, at first just dipping her like I would if we were dancing. The dress slides across my arms as smooth as her skin would after we make love. The cool material warms under my touch making me think of her bare skin and how it does the same.

I don't like the way she is holding herself back. It's nothing she's actually doing; I just feel like she is putting up walls to keep me out and I don't like it. I don't like the fact that I'm fucking jealous because of Aaron. I don't like knowing I might not get what I want in the end this time.

"Now ramp up that old detective thing. Put your hands in her…yeah, just like that."

I sink my fingers in her hair so I can maneuver her head easier and look into the melted caramel chocolate eyes that stare up at me. If I could only see behind those endless pools, would I be able to figure her out? Would I be able to figure out what it would take to make her see me as more than just the man standing in front of her that she's seen in all the movies?

"Oh yeah! That is great guys!" I blink and remember that we aren't down here because we just happened to be in the same place at the same time. This is work. "Now kiss her."

Fucking Dane. Always pushing. Always getting me into trouble.

"You heard him sweetheart," I lean forward so we are even closer, "give me those lips."

I crash my mouth down on hers and she goes instantly molten. Instead of fighting me for control, or to try to get away from me, she offers up the honeyed chamber of her mouth with no resistance. Instead of running the other fucking way, she clings to me like I might be the only one who can save her.

It might be because she's an amazing actress -and she is- but in this, I know she doesn't understand enough to realize what she is giving me, and that makes me want to roar. Fuck letting her go! Fuck letting some little shit like Aaron step in because they fit better than me and her do, fuck what people will say when they find out! All I care about is what she's telling me right now. And she's telling me she's mine to take.

I feel myself becoming lost in the softness of her mouth, the silky feel of having her in my arms, the heat that builds between us like kindling engulfed in flame. Instead of pushing me away, her arms come up and wrap around me, holding me tight. There's a hunger there that is in both of us, it calls from one to the other so that the want is triple fold, growing and rising up like lava about to erupt forth.

"Hell yeah! Good grief, guys, you all are going to set Hollywood on fire! And I'm going to photograph it!"

I bring both of us back to a level position and watch as Dane and his assistant walk away from us talking about how great the pictures are going to turn out. There's a tension in their absence that lays thick enough in the air you can nearly reach out and touch it.

I watch as she sinks her teeth in her bottom lip and takes a shuddering breath before she turns to me with a small smile on her face. "I'm glad we could give him what he wanted."

She turns away from me giving me the back of her slinky gown. The back is cut so low you can see the little dimples at the bottom of her back. I have already reached for her before I can stop myself. It's a compulsion - to pull her back into me, to bring her close, to say to hell with everything else but getting her mouth back under mine.

I wrap my hand around her wrist and tug her back to me. She comes with a rush of air she lets out in a soft gasp. I don't give her time to try to talk me out of taking her mouth. Instead, I crush mine down on hers and follow that rise of heat that comes back when our lips touch. I spin us and walk her backward until she comes up against the stone wall behind us.

Her hands come up to my chest, but she isn't pushing me away. No, there is no fight here as she sinks her fingers into my shirt and pulls me down even closer. This time when I kiss her, she kisses me back. Our tongues collide and a new kind of fight starts happening between the two of us… the fight for control.

She chases my tongue the same way I chase hers, licking and playing, nearly taking me to my knees when she playfully sucks on the tip. My hands encircle her wrists and pull them from my shirt to press them to the cool wall behind us. It would be easy to just pick her up and throw her over my shoulder but I'm not sure how far we would make it before both of us are on the floor with our clothes off.

She isn't phased at the show of control I give her with her wrists shackled in my hands. Instead, she meets me every step of the way, seemingly just as hungry for me as I am for her. I nip her bottom lip and then soothe with the swipe of my tongue before I run my mouth along her jaw and below to the column of her neck.

She drops her head back to give me more room as she pushes into me and off the wall. I release one wrist to cup the soft globe of her ass. She uses her newfound freedom to wrap her arm around my neck and dig her fingers into the crisp short hair at the back of my head, racking her nails over the sensitive skin and causing a shiver to work through me.

Her tongue becomes bolder the more I give her, the more I show her how she affects me. The shoulder of her gown shifts to give me a small glimpse of the swell of her breast that entices my hand and draws me in like a moth to a fucking flame. I slip my hand in the slight gap and touch silken heaven. She's even softer than the fucking dress she's wearing. And not wearing anything under this damn thing just as I suspected.

Her shocked gasp at the touch of my hand on her soft skin, the taste of her mouth, and the scent of her drive me like a madman. I don't give a damn that we are down in the cellar - not really a secure location to seduce someone in. I don't give a damn that any of the people we came with could walk in at any moment and see me holding Winnie in my arms. I don't give a damn that I shouldn"t be lifting her off her feet so she can wrap her legs around my waist and I can drop my mouth to take the secret treasure my hand has found for us. I just give a damn about her.