You were going to pass out, you were certain of it.
His kiss stopped your breathing, dead. Your eyes had crashed closed and you had fallen into the sweet sensation of his delicate lips on yours.
It was too much. Entirely, too much to take in.
His hand had slid up your neck, cradling the back of your head. Yours had come to rest on his chest, fingers curling in the cotton of his shirt.
And then, as if it was rehearsed, you let each other in simultaneously, his tongue massaging yours in a gentle dance. You couldn't help it. The quiet moan left you completely against your will, vibrating against his mouth. His hands balled into fists where they were, one grasping your hair, the other pulling your waist closer so that you were pressed up against him.
The kiss deepened, became more intense.
You were dimly aware of your surroundings.
Thank God Tom had had the presence of mind to pick a table out of the way of others.
Slowly, you left each other, small kisses punctuating the long passion that had just played out between you.
You sat, still embracing tightly, his forehead lightly resting against yours.
With a jolt, you realised he was as breathless as you, panting as if you'd both just done a 100m sprint.
Your eyelids flickered open just in time to see his do the same.
"Hi..."
Was that really all you could think of to say?
He let out a breathless laugh and repeated your greeting.
"Come to dinner tomorrow." he blurted
"I can't." you said, regret aching in your voice, "I have to work."
"Then the day after, or the day after that, whenever. Just come."
You fixed on a day. A weekend that wouldn't interfere with your job or his rehearsals and mercifully not too far away. You knew you wouldn't be able to last more than a few days without seeing him again.
He was the perfect gentleman, wanting to drive you home, only giving in and walking you to your Tube stop when you insisted on it. A small, lingering kiss goodbye and you descended into the stuffy warmth of the Underground.
You didn't read this time.
You sat entranced with your own thoughts. His kisses playing over and over in your mind.
"O that I had him,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
To use my lawful sword!"
Thank God, my last line.
He adored Shakespeare, and his job, but this read-through had dragged.
He knew why.
Their kiss was haunting him, teasing him, making him focus on nothing else but her. It was dangerous. Detrimental to his work, he knew, but so delicious a sin.
"OK folks, thank you so much for that. We'll reconvene tomorrow and start getting it on it's feet. Well done everyone."
Josie, the director led the room in a round of applause before everyone started the shuffling task of packing up and going home. Tom chatted amiably with his fellow cast mates as they left, promising dinner with Mark in the coming week, before switching on his phone and hoisting his bag to his shoulder.
As he reached his car, the message tone fired a few times and he leaned back in the driver's seat to read them.
One from Luke, one from his agent and one from her.
Bypassing the others, he opened her text.
Hey you, hope rehearsal went well :) xxx
Quickly, he replied;
Really well, but distracted for some reason... ;) xxx
Smiling, he drove the short way home receiving her reply as he walked through the door to his apartment.
Can't think why... xxx
He let out a small laugh and flicked on the kettle as he replied.
You know very well why, temptress. Xxx
He had settled down in front of the TV with his cup of tea before she responded. It had given him just enough time to start to panic, that he had been too forward with calling her a 'temptress', and he breathed a small sigh of relief that she had, at least, replied.
As his eyes scanned the text, his eyebrows rose and a pleasant jolt ran through him, sparking his mischievousness.
Give me half a chance and I'll show you just how tempting I can be. ;) xxx
You did not just send that.
You did not just send that!
The glee of rebelliousness ran through you, making you laugh and panic at the same time. You tried to imagine his reaction. Surely, since he was obviously attracted to you, he wouldn't mind?
You paced the room, growing more worried each moment that you might have overstepped the mark. But he had started it, right?! You wondered what he was doing, whether he was wondering how to respond to your blatant flirting. He was taking a while to reply...
You didn't know that as he rushed to type his comeback, he grappled with his belt, desperate to free his hardness and relieve the ache that had been growing inside him.
You didn't know that, as he typed, he bucked his hips into his own hand. That as he pressed 'Send', he practically threw his phone down and gasped as his hand sped him frantically to his release.
You didn't know, wide-eyed and growing wet, your own hand slipping into your knickers, that he was coming, hard, moaning your name, as you read his words;
Lady, I sincerely look forward to the day you tempt me.
Tempt me to take you to my bed.
Tempt me to kiss you until you see stars.
Tempt me to send my tongue across every inch of your skin.
Tempt me to pleasure you until the only word you can remember is my name. Xxx