“Madeline… Madeline… Madeline…”
My hands slide up his chest, over warm, hard muscle, up to his shoulders. I cling to him, my legs threatening to give out. The elevator sways slightly as it climbs, or maybe that’s just me, drunk off him, dizzy from the force of Jesse Winters.
His hips press against mine, pinning me a little harder to the mirrored wall, and a quiet sound escapes me. It sparkssomething dark in his eyes before he kisses me deeper. Hotter. Hungrier. My back arches when his hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, thumb stroking the hollow just below my ear, sending a shiver straight through my stomach. His lips trail down the corner of my mouth, then back up, teasing and claiming.
I’m gone.
Completely undone.
I don’t care that I shouldn’t want this. I don’t care that he’s my boss, or that my mother is somewhere across town planning an intervention. All I care about is his mouth on mine and the way my body fits perfectly against his, like we’ve done this a thousand times in every lifetime before this one.
“Jesse,” I whisper against his lips, breathless.
He pulls back a fraction—just enough for me to see the fire in his eyes, the wrecked, hungry way he’s looking at me like he absolutely cannot believe he finally touched me.
And then he leans in again, voice rough. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into Cove.”
The elevator dings.
Neither of us moves.
He’s still pressed against me, and I’m still holding onto him. The air between us is molten…and the doors are about to open.
Jesse doesn’t move away from me when they do. Not even an inch. If anything, his grip on my waist tightens, his body still caged against mine, the heat of him sinking straight into my bones.
The doors are fully open now, and a couple stands waiting outside, staring.
I should be mortified. I should be scrambling away, smoothing my hair, pretending we weren’t just devouring each other. But then Jesse mutters, low enough for only me to hear, “Not done.” A second later, he pulls me back in, mouth catching mine in another blistering kiss that steals every logicalthought from my brain. It’s rougher this time, deeper, like something in him has snapped and he’s done pretending he doesn’t want me.
I don’t even hear the couple shuffle away. All I hear is the sound Jesse makes when his hand slides into my hair—this helpless, low groan that shoots through me like lightning.
“Jesse…” I gasp when he finally lets me breathe.
His forehead drops to mine, breath uneven, eyes dark.
“Come on,” he rasps. “Before I do something I absolutely shouldn’t do in a public elevator.”
My laugh is breathless and shaky, because he already has.
We don’t talk as we walk down the hallway. We don’t need to. Every few steps, his hand grazes my lower back, and I feel him looking at me. When we reach the door, I fumble for the keycard until Jesse takes it gently from my hand. He holds it up, but instead of swiping it, his body presses against my back, slow and deliberate.
His breath ghosts along my neck as he murmurs, “Tell me to stop.”
My fingers curl uselessly at my sides. “I won’t,” I whisper.
The sound he makes is nothing short of feral before he spins me gently so my back hits the door with a soft thud, and his mouth crashes onto mine again. The kiss is hot and urgent and when his hands slide to my hips and his tongue sweeps into my mouth to find mine, every muscle in my body softens.
Needing more of him, I run my hand to the back of his neck, dragging him closer, wanting him everywhere. His tongue brushes against mine, and I swear my knees nearly buckle.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs against my mouth, “how much I’ve wanted this.”
Another kiss, harder this time. Another kiss, a little slower. His hands are everywhere—roaming over my waist, my ribs, tracing a searing path up my spine.
Somehow—God knows how—I manage to whisper, “Jesse…the key.”
He huffs a laugh against my lips, breath shaking, and presses the card to the lock. When the door clicks, he nudges it open with his foot, but he stops before I can step inside. Reverently, he lifts my chin with two fingers, eyes locked on mine.
“You sure?” he asks softly, voice wrecked, pupils blown, chest rising like he’s catching his breath. He’s unsteady, but there’s still tenderness in the moment, and after all the heat, after everything, the emotion in his eyes hits me so hard it steals the air from my lungs.
