Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📕

my head against his chest. A sea of flames courses through me as I allow myself this moment. This achingly glorious moment. His heartbeat drums savage and hot and I entertain the fleeting thought that this exquisite rhythm beats only for me. It’s thrilling. His whole torso vibrates divinely as he hums along to the chorus.

Makin’ Love out of Nothing at All...

This has got to be one of the most gooey, drippy, sugary sweet love ballads in the history of music. I’m more of an Uptown Funk sort of girl but here in Ingram’s arms, it’s now my favorite song in the whole wide world. The piano swells, electric guitars soar in harmony, my senses heighten. Ingram trails his fingers along my back, leaving delightful sparks in their wake. I turn to pixie dust. I’m not entirely sure I even had a chance from the first second his eyes raked over my body this afternoon, alight with flame and desire. Earlier, I let myself believe his fiery gaze was his way of telling me he’d have me for breakfast. Now I’m thinking he’ll still have me for breakfast... but in an entirely different way.

He dips his head—I can feel his warm breath on my neck through the jungle of my hair. It’s the Amazon rainforest in there—heavy with humidity. A shiver trickles down the surface of my skin and I shudder. His body responds with a buzzing answer, his pulse quickening thick and steady. It’s almost too much. I lift my chin to give me some reprieve and he moves with me. We’re nose to nose, just studying one another. There’s a question on his features and something inside tells me it’s not about the weather. Does he find an answer in my face? Do I even know what I want? I think I do, because against my better judgment I want him more than anything. I want him bad. And the way his burning palm cups my jaw, he’s getting the signal strong and clear.

He takes my mouth, soft and sweet, exploring in a slow, intoxicating kiss. His lips are everything I imagined they’d be and more. They possess me, keep me, turn me inside out. I cling to him, lifting from Earth—weightless among the stars. Bolts of lightning surge through me, plunging into my core. I’m trembling for more. Ingram is insatiable. A growl resounds deep in his throat and his kiss devours me and becomes wildly demanding. His mouth is fierce, raging in intensity with each all-consuming stroke. I feel I might shatter into a thousand pieces of stardust. He’s an amazing kisser. A savage kisser.

Confident hands roam over my back, his fingers kneading my skin through the thin fabric of my blouse. My breathing speeds. I feel so alive right now. My body hums in response to his every touch. Every hot breath on the surface of my skin.

“You’re burning up,” he says as he trails his lips down my neck. “So feverish for me.”

My belly quivers and the only sound I can manage is. “Gug.”

Super smooth, I know.

I press into the strong lines of his hard chest. I want to meld into him and live my life like that forever. I’d just walk around like that with half my body glued to Ingram. Trips to the store would invite some strange looks, but I don’t care what people think.

I don’t even care what I think. This is not how I envisioned my Friday night. Even if I had managed to find a date (unlikely), I’d never have imagined Ingram in that scenario. And now he’s giving me mind-bending kisses and I’m ruined for all other men.

The realization makes me both tingly and angry. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember. But that nagging heartache has been my constant companion ever since Ingram left me waiting all those years ago. A storm rushes through me and I could choose to run from him or rain down my scorn in a punishing, raging kiss.

Perhaps he deserves both.

6

INGRAM

I have no self-control. Sue me.

One minute we were talking business and the next thing I know I’m all over her and she’s climbing me like a monkey in a tree.

The Downer Dan inside my head tells me it’s just my dry spell. I work too hard. No time for dating.

But I know that’s not true. The few times I’ve forced myself to take girls out, not one measured up to Rosemary. It’s actually been detrimental to my love life. Even when a date was going well, Imaginary Rosemary would always make an appearance, shaking her head at my stupidity.

Now I realize my expectations of Imaginary Rosemary fell woefully short. Real Rosemary is raising the bar exponentially. I’ll never recover.

I’m just a tiny bit scared because if this thunder and lightning show is any indication of what’s in store for us, I’m convinced we’ll go up in flames like the ending of Like Water for Chocolate. Muy caliente. The Notebook has nothing on that movie.

Rosemary’s lips are soft and warm—and she’s a live wire under my touch. Extremely responsive. Primal. And those breathy little sounds she makes send me over the edge. I’m mad with hunger, greedy for more. I can’t explain it. I want all of her—I want her mind, her smiles, her spirit. And yeah, I appreciate her body, too. Hey, I’m a guy.

She exhales hard. It drives me freaking crazy. My fingers snake through her beautiful hair and I treat myself to a handful. I tug gently, just enough to give me access to her neck. She’s so into it. I pepper her with sweet kisses along her jawline, all the way down to her collarbone. Her skin is pliant and dewy and I’ve decided I’ve passed the point of no return.

I’m falling. Hard. It’s no surprise. I’ve carried a torch for her for too long.

I explore the column of her gorgeous neck and every nerve ending in my body comes alive when