Kissing Chase was—
I lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.
His lips were soft and firm at the same time, tasting like citrus from whatever Benji had put in his drink. His hands found my wrists, pulling them above my head and pinning them against the wall. His torso pressed into mine, solid and sure and so fucking warm.
Chase kissed me like I’d just returned from a years-long war that he was sure I wouldn’t survive.
His lips were hungry and raw and gentle and firm and . . . oh, shit . . . his tongue.
Chase pulled back, just enough to breathe, and rested his forehead against mine.
“Hi,” he said, letting go of one wrist to brush hair off my forehead. That tender touch made me shiver.
“Hi,” I managed, breathless.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the sidewalk.”
“The sidewalk was three weeks ago.”
“I’m aware.”
“You waited three weeks to kiss me in a dirty alley?”
“Is that a complaint?”
“God, no. Not even a little.”
He kissed me again.
Harder this time.
More insistent.
His hands moved from my wrists to my hips, pulling me closer. I made a sound that was embarrassing, but I didn’t care because Chase’s tongue was doing something incredible and my brain had officially left the building.
My fingers found his hair, tangling in his messy curls, gripping and pulling until his head fell back and exposed his stubbly neck. I tasted his skin, ran my tongue from Adam’s apple to chin, then grazed my teeth back down to his collarbone.
He moaned and squeezed my hips so hard I was sure he’d left a mark.
I pulled back this time, gasping for air.
“You’re very good at that,” he said.
“At what?”
“The whole vampire neck tease. Damn.”
I grinned and took a faux nibble at the base of his neck.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I said. “At kissing . . . and the whole pressing-me-against-a-wall thing was . . . very effective.”
“Noted. More shoving you around, slamming you against things. Pushing hard.”
I sucked in a breath.
“What else am I good at?” Chase’s hands were still on my hips.
“Showing up at my bar when I least expect it.”
