Skylar ran up the stairs as if the entire world were chasing her. Her heart was pounding so fast she could feel it thudding in her throat. When she reached her room, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, gasping for air. The echo of the door shutting rang through the quiet mansion, but she didn’t care. Her fingers trembled as she pressed a hand to her chest.
Her breathing came in uneven waves—short, shallow, desperate. She didn’t know if she should touch her lips or her chest first. Both seemed to burn. Her fingers brushed her mouth, and it sent a shiver down her spine. What just happened?
She slid down the door, sitting on the cold marble floor, completely overwhelmed. The memory of his lips on hers wouldn’t leave. It replayed over and over—the shock in her veins, the warmth
