I hold out my drink.
“Hold this for me.”
His brows pull together,
irritation warping into a slow burn.
His hand moves before his mind does.
He grabs the glass, gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn bone-pale.
We stare at each other.
Breathless. Unbearable.
I reach up, slip his tie through my fingers.
His throat bobs,
fingers adjusting their grip on the drink.
Then I let the words drip out?—
“Now you get to kiss me.”
As soon as my words hit the air,
he’s leaning in,
closing the space between us,
the sound of my voice
dragging him in by the collar.
But I turn away at the last second,
his mouth grazing my cheek.
He stops, breath stuttering and ragged.
I melt into the wall,
tilt my head back,
exposing my neck.
Then slide a finger
down the edge of my throat,
holding his stare.
“No,” I whisper.
Then tap below my ear. “Here.”
A growl rips from deep in his chest.
