"Yes," I admitted, the word dragged from somewhere deep in my chest. "God help me, yes. I haven't been able to think about anything else. But wanting you doesn't make this right—"
"I don't care about right," she interrupted. "I care about this. About us. About the way you make me feel." She cupped my face, forcing me to look at her. "I've wanted you for three years. And now I finally have you, and you want me to just walk away?"
"I'm trying to protect you—"
"I don't need protection. I need you." She kissed me before I could respond, and just like that, every rational thought evaporated.
I kissed her back desperately, pulling her into my lap so she was straddling me, her thighs on either side of mine. This kiss was different from the frantic one in my office—slower, deeper, like we actu
