Storm put his hands on the wall at each side of her head. “My hands promise to behave,” he teased.
She looked up.
His lips curved in a smile as lighthearted as his tone, but his eyes reflected the animal caged inside his body.
Her heart pounded with him this close. The muscles in her chest twisted and tightened, shaking her body harder than the vibration from the approaching train did.
Storm inched his face closer to hers. “You smell like a fresh shower . . . sweet and tempting.”
Why did she feel as though she was still naked from her shower when he said it that way? She watched his mouth say something else but couldn’t hear the words over the train noise. Then he stopped talking and paused. The next look he gave her was one of internal resignation.
She mouthed the word,What?
He kissed her. His mouth settled on hers with a familiar feel, as though his lips had known hers a long time. He possessed her mouth, mated it to his, and turned her body into liquid compliance.
He tasted tempting. Dangerous temptation she should be backing away from at a high speed. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
His tongue explored, carefully at first, then with adventure in mind.
The train roared past, vibrating the wall at her back.
The rush of wind pushed Storm’s body into hers, brushing her breasts that felt too full.
She shivered, breathing as hard as a runner at top speed when silence swept in behind the distant train with sharp abruptness. That’s when she realized his hands were still on the wall, but she had stepped up on the balls of her feet and cupped her hands around his shoulders.
When she leaned back and dropped her arms, she licked her lips, tasting him again. If he kept this up she might lose her mind enough to step over that line one time.
She knew better. “We can’t keep doing this.”
He straightened away from her and ran a hand over his face in a frustrated motion. His voice reeked of disgust when he muttered, “I couldn’t agree more.”
On a logical level, she wanted his agreement.
On a female level, that hadn’t been what she’d expected. She clenched her hands and shoved past him. “Not like it wasmyidea to kiss you.”
“Evalle.”
Ignoring him, she kept stomping down the middle of the tracks.
“Evalle?”
“What?”
“Come here.”
She spun around. “Now what?”
He was smiling, which confused and annoyed her in equal measure. He walked up to her. “I was irritated withmyself, not you.”
“I don’t understand.” Understatement. “And honestly, I don’t care.” Lie.
Which he called her on silently when he arched an eyebrow. “When I agreed with you, I meant I can’t keep kissing you without . . . wanting more.”
What kind of more? “So that kiss was”—she shrugged, searching for a word—“okay.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She might drop-kick him again after all. She crossed her arms.
