“Depends,” he growled. “Are you gonna make it up to me?”
Without waiting for permission, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in. Their mouths collided… hot, urgent, impatient. Rita's fingers tangled in his hair, moaning when his hands roamed her back. Their bodies pressed against each other, and the heat between them melted whatever hesitation Rita had.
But just as she gasped into his mouth, Vincent suddenly pulled back.
“Wait,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Is your door locked? What if someone walks in?”
Rita licked her lips, dazed but amused. “They think I’m hungover,” she said in a husky voice. “No one’s checking on me.”
Vincent arched a brow. “Then why the hell can’t I come through the front door like a civilized human?”
Rita rolled her eyes and walked toward her bed, flopp
