I kiss him back, because my body is a traitorous b***h. My struggle becomes a blown out war, but I no longer wish to get rid of him. I hold him close…He’s so warm…so hard…so f*****g built, I don’t know where to begin touching him. I want to leave his skin with the same scalding heat he leaves mine with.
A single thought drops in my subconscious. He’s engaged. His fiancée is downstairs, waiting for him. I think of breaking the kiss, but I don’t do it. I should, I know it’s the right thing to do, but I ignore every voice of reason and slide my hands up his shoulders, cupping the nape of his neck where I know his tattoo lays. I stroke it once, teasing the skin up to his hair.
He grunts pulling me into him, away from the railing and I am suddenly slammed into the wall.
His body covers mine
