We step toward each other and I tentatively place my hands on her hips. She reaches up and drapes her arms around my neck.
Following my lead, she moves her feet slightly so that we can keep the rhythm.
This close, she smells like expensive perfume—something flowery with notes of vanilla. The lighting’s dim and golden from the sparse lamp posts, and we’ve both still been wearing our masks this whole time, but when I look down I can see her dark eyes and the way her lashes flit when she glances around and then up at me. Her lips part slightly, drawing my attention to the little bow at their peak.
“Vibe Check” is around seventy-five beats per minute, but my heart rate has got to be a hundred and fifty, rivaling the percussive piano that drives the song to its emotional peak. Minji Seok sings “You pass the vibe check. We’re soaring and I bet … this won’t be the last I see … of you.”
I find myself leaning in. Harmony’s face moves incrementally toward me. Even though we are still somewhat new to each other, her mouth seems to align with mine like we’ve done this a thousand times, so close I can almost taste her.
But I hold back.
This is crazy. I can’t justkissHarmony Sonora.
And then it’s too late—because she kisses me first.
Kiss Me on the Mouth and Love Me Like a Sailor
HARMONY
Hislipslureminelike a magnet.
He flinches slightly at the kiss, and for an instant I think maybe I’ve done something wrong, but then he reaches up and cups my cheek. His mouth presses back against mine.
Heat floods my entire body.
What the hell am I doing?
I’m supposed to be inside the resort, using this event as an opportunity to further my career. Instead, I’ve been wandering The Habitat for over an hour with a guy I barely know.
Except Ifeellike I know him.
Conversation is easy, and I’m not on guard every second.
Griffin talks to me like a peer, yet not like he assumes he’s on my level. He’s impressed by me but not starstruck. He seems to admire me, but his compliments aren’t pandering or obsessive. What is he? I don’t understand.
All I know is, I like him. A lot.
I’m gripping the lapels of his blazer to pull him closer. His cologne is musky and warm, like singed sandalwood.
Our lips give and take in perfect time, synchronized to each other and to the song that’s playing that I’ve all but blocked out because my pounding pulse has taken over.
The masks make this whole thing even more sensual.
His hands rove all over me—my waist, my hips, my shoulders, my face—everywhere but where I suddenly want them. He restrains himself before caressing too high on my ribs but I pull back enough to tell him, “You can touch me if you want.”
“You mean …”
I nod and kiss him again as I urge one of his hands up to my breast.
A soft rumble erupts in his throat.
He squeezes me gently, then less gently.
Yes. Like that.
“Anywhere,” I clarify the next time there’s the slightest break between us.
He detaches my cape and it falls to the ground. He kisses down my neck, then his lips graze my bare shoulders.
