Jace
“Thank you, Midnight Hour!” I say, waving to the crowd. Lennox and I stand in synchronized motion as we exit off stage and retreat behind the curtain.
Right after we disappear, he pops back out playfully and does some little jig with his hips and riles the crowd up again then leaves. He pauses behind the curtain, waiting for the clapping to subside, then pops his head out, teasing them some more as he blows kisses to them.
God, he’s so insufferable. But the crowd loves it and I hide my chuckle as I try to pull him back.
He fakes like someone is trying to steal him away, then yanks on my arm, pulling me flush to him so both our faces are inches from each other peeking through the curtain.
I smile for real because his energy is irritatingly contagious, then blow a kiss to the audience in tandem with him, playfully rolling my eyes and he finally shuts the curtain fully.
We walk down the backstage aisle straight to the green room and my nerve endings are practically searing holes in my skin.
The tingling sensation is running up my spine, turning my brain into a bowl of mush.
I hadn’t practiced what I would say to him when I saw him again. I didn’t expect to see him so soon.
He reaches for the handle and swings the door open allowing me to step through first as he glances down the hallway in both directions before following me in and shutting the door behind him.
Instead of turning around to face me he presses his forehead against the door, his back expanding with a slow, languid breath before he audibly pushes it out.
“Fuck.” He bangs his head against the door then spins around, advancing toward me with purpose, taking a hold of my lapel and pulling me flush against him.
I don’t have time to react before he lands a bruising kiss on my lips, running his hand in my hair, gripping tight at the roots. I step back by his sheer force and we stumble over our feet until my back slams against the wall.
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing to me?” His voice is tortured. Mumbled between the clashing of our tongues and the sparks of the electricity between us.
We shouldn’t do this. We can’t. But my willpower is fleeting because my body has craved this for weeks—craved him since the moment he walked out of his trailer.
I welcome the harshness of his kiss, loving the sensation of his body weight on mine.
Involuntarily, I grab his tie, pulling him even closer as a moan vibrates from his chest and he whispers my name, telling me how badly he wants me.
The desperate sound of his voice kicks me out of my delirium. Forcing me into the reality of where we are and what we’re doing.
Dropping my hands to his hips I attempt to push him away, reveling in the seconds before I pull away but he doesn’t relent, rutting into me, grinding his erect cock against mine.
“Goddamnit,” he says, then he stumbles back, forcing himself away from me. His chest is heaving and his midnight irises blend heavily into his bright green eyes before he widens them, then stands up straight.
He sucks in a deep breath then apologizes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” But as his eyes meet mine, it’s more of a question than a statement. Like he’s testing the waters, wanting me to rebuttal the comment.
I freeze, taking in our surroundings and pull my shoulders back, standing to my full height as I straighten my jacket.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have,” I say, plainly.
A tight, irritated smile crosses his face as he shakes his head.
“How do you do that? Turn to stone so fucking easily?”
Years of practice.
I don’t say that though. I remain silent in my seasoned stoic expression.
“Right,” he says as he flattens his palm against his tie, trailing it down his chest. He glances around the room, at the TV’s plastered on the wall, watching Greg close out the show then back to me.
I want to tell him about the appeal next week.
Seven more days until perhaps I’m free of the chains I’ve been living in.
That maybe, just maybe, I could have the freedom to choose something different for myself.
Before I can say anything, the words vanish on my tongue and he turns away, walking toward the door.
“I’ll see you around.”
I’m left alone, once again, hating myself for pushing away the only person who makes me feel like I can finally be myself.
I want to run after him and my body physically steps forward when my phone pings with a new message.
Evelyn Wilder: You should be ashamed of yourself. That display tonight was disgusting and inappropriate.
Evelyn Wilder: He’s just like Luca and you’re not strong enough to handle yourself around people like him. Stop this now, Jace.