Isa exhales sharply.
“God, Tristan.”
She steps closer.
Close enough that I can see the tiny gold flecks in her brown eyes.
“Can’t you see I’m right here?”
Her voice softens, but it’s still intense.
“I’m perfect for you.”
The words hang there.
Bold.
Fearless.
Very Texan.
Before I can respond, her hands come up.
They land flat against my chest.
Warm.
Confident.
Her fingers curl slightly into the fabric of my shirt.
Then one hand slides behind my neck.
And she pulls me down.
The kiss hits like a collision.
Hot.
Sudden.
Her lips firm and demanding against mine.
For half a second, my brain goes completely blank.
The pulse in my neck starts hammering.
The hallway noise fades into a distant blur.
It’s not soft.
Not curious.
There’s frustration in it.
Possession.
A challenge.
