“But you keep looking at me,” he said, voice low and warm, “like you want me to ignore that.”
My pulse rose with each passing second.
I hated how right he was.
I hated how my body answered before my brain could catch up.
I hated,absolutely hated, how good he smelled this close.
I swallowed. “Tomorrow we have clients.”
He nodded slowly. “Tomorrow we behave.”
“Tonight we practice behaving,” I added quickly.
“Do we?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, though my voice was hanging by the thinnest thread of conviction left in my body.
He leaned one hand on the filing cabinet beside my hip, bracing himself just inches from me. “I’m not touching you.”
“So far,” I said, breathless.
He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes heated. “You’re the one leaning in this time.”
“I am not—”
Except I was.
Just a fraction… enough for him to notice and enough to destroy every lie I told myself about control.
“Sienna,” he murmured, and the sound of my name in that voice made my knees wobble.
He wasn’t asking permission.
He wasn’t assuming.
He was warning me, maybe even warning himself.
I whispered back, “We’re really bad at rules.”
His breath brushed my cheek, and his lips found mine again, slower this time, deeper, deliberate. The kind of kiss that didn’t rush or burn wild but slid through me like warm honey. His lips were smooth, certain, and devastating.
My hand slipped up his chest to grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. He groaned softly against my mouth, with a low, hungry sound that erased the last inch of space between us.
Everything heated inside and whispered more.
When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes steadied on mine.
“Tomorrow,” he breathed. “We behave.”
I nodded, still dizzy. “Tomorrow.”
But tonight?
Tonight I already knew…
We were going to be very, very bad at staying away from each other.
