An array of machine gun bullets were plastering the walls. I cannot not move. Not only because of the sheer terror I am in, but because the full weight of Collin’s toned body is on top of me pinning me down. My back is against the wood floor of his living room and his entire body is over my own.
I don’t mind the position. Despite I know the danger I am in, I intake the smell of his neck as he arches sideways to look at the direction of the bullets. I can smell sweat mingled with some sort of expensive cologne that reminds me of a pine forest after the rain and like it immensely. He then looks back down at me. He seems just as aroused as I am, still in this precarious situation, as his green eyes fall to my open lips trying to breath against his chest. Our breaths are intermingled and
