He kissed her, hard and hungry, leaving her gasping. His hands were everywhere, one tugging her closer, the other slipping under her shirt. Dahlia’s moan escaped before she could stop it, and he rested his forehead against hers.
“No,” she whispered, wrenching herself back. “This can’t happen.” Her voice cracked into a scream, but he just stood there, calm, watching her unravel.
She stepped forward again, stared him down, opened her mouth like she was about to say something to him, then shut it, wordless.
He kissed her again, desperate this time, but she shoved him off, her hands trembling.
“Gahn, I already made my choice,...”
“I know,” he cut her off, his voice low.
He yanked his sweater off and made her wear it. The warmth and his scent hit her all at once, and for a second, her eye
