The kiss was sharp, urgent, almost violent in its need.
Adrian stiffened for a fraction of a second, then groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding to my waist as he kissed me back with equal hunger.
All the air in the room disappeared.
His mouth was hot against mine, his tongue teasing at the seam of my lips until I opened for him, and then it was like falling—faster, harder, deeper. His hands roamed up my spine, pressing me flush against him, and for a dizzy moment, Nicolas and his text didn’t exist. There was no fear, no past, only this—the taste of Adrian, the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the heat building between us like a storm.
“Melissa…I thought we're keeping it professional between us” he rasped against my mouth, pulling back just enough to look at me. His pupils
