Here she was again to clean his apartment and after she was done and ready to go, Lennox grabbed her and kissed her and her resolve kind of disappeared.
She should stop him. She should shove him away, break the moment, throw up every defense she had spent years perfecting and put an end to this before it went too far, before she went too far.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Because Lennox’s lips were on hers, warm, insistent, pressing into her like he was staking his claim, and instead of fighting it, instead of tearing herself away, she gave in.
It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t part of some grand, reckless decision. It was instinct.
A reaction so automatic, so natural, that for a second, nothing else existed… not Lucy, not their families, not the fact that she had spent weeks, months
