No—I’m here on a very specific mission, and Taylor can’t be part of it. I need to win the competition, establish a face and rapport with the viewers, then get my ass back to my real life in Vancouver.
That’s the plan.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Her hands clench, brows knitting together in a small scowl. I bring her knuckles to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her skin before letting go and stepping back toward the door.
I need to leave while my head is still clear.
Taylor stands there, one hip pressed against the counter. She glares down at her hands, then back up at me. I turn sharply, fully intending to hightail it back to my room, take a cold shower, and force myself to sleep.
Just as I reach the threshold, her small voice stops me.
“Alex.”
My eyes slam shut, and I grip the doorframe, trying to hold the line. But her voice—my name, soft and full of something like need—slips under every layer of logic I’ve built.
I turn, really looking at her. Taking her in.
Beautiful. Talented. Passionate. Funny. Everything a person could want.
She’s all gentle curves and full, pouty lips. Her wild, untamed mane is one of the most tempting things I’ve ever seen.
But it’s her eyes that do me in—big, round hazel eyes that say everything she isn’t brave enough to admit out loud.
My breath hitches on a final, sharp breath.
“Fuck it.”
I cross the distance between us in a few long strides. Her eyes light up. My hands slide up her neck, thumbs tipping her chin back, fingers tangling in her hair at the base of her neck.
A small gasp escapes her before I’m crushing my mouth against hers in a hungry kiss. Her lips move against mine, and they’re just as soft as I imagined they would be.
“I should stop.” I murmur against her lips.
She hums in quiet disagreement, sliding her hands up my chest, tracing light patterns as we move together. I press closer, pinning her against the counter. She brushes her tongue across my lower lip.
An invitation to deepen the kiss that I’m more than happy to accept. My hands slide down to her waist, lifting her onto the flour-covered counter in one smooth motion. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me in closer without breaking the kiss.
Her body presses into mine, and a quiet sound escapes her as she shifts against me.
Fucking hell.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as my tongue teases hers. She opens for me, and the kiss deepens.
Kissing Taylor is everything and not enough at the same time. I can’t get close enough, can’t touch her in all the ways I want to. The way her body responds to mine feels like she was made for me.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when I finally pull back, we’re both breathless. She’s smiling a lazy, dreamy smile that looks way too good on her.
Leaning forward, I catch her lower lip between my teeth, then brush my tongue against it. Another small moan slips from her.
“God, I knew you wouldn’t disappoint,” she says, laughing under her breath.
I smirk. “As I said before, I aim to please.”
Another quick kiss.
“Clearly,” she murmurs, running her hands down my chest. “Look… I don’t want to bethatgirl, but… I have to ask—what does this mean?”
