He moves me from where I'm pressed against the doorway and we stubble
our way over the mess we made earlier in the last scene to the unmade bed.
Our clothes had already been thrown off earlier and all that's left is my shirt.
When Christian moves to slip it off me, I nearly reel back in defense before
remembering he has a plan.
He has a plan.
Pretending the cameras aren't here, I let him slip the white tee off of me
before his chest in pressed against my own harshly.
The camera might be able to see the tops of my breasts which is nothing my
shirts don't occasionally show already, but there's certainly no view of my
nipples and his thick arms block the rest as we kiss feverently.
"Derick," I mumble as the vague script for this scene suggested I say.
"Scarlett," he moans
