Kenzie didn’t blink. If anything, her gaze darkened, a slow, honeyed heat spreading through her expression as she took in the evidence of what she was doing to me. She leaned across the counter, her voice dropping into a whisper that made my pulse spike.
"Mars might be in retrograde," she whispered, her voice a low, vibrating hum that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She didn't look away from the heavy, pulsing ridge straining against my shorts; if anything, her gaze grew hungrier, her eyes bright with a playful, celestial mischief.
"But your 'alignment' seems pretty damn clear from here," she added, finally dragging her eyes back up to mine.
She leaned in, her scent—vanilla and something wilder, like the desert at night—washing over me.
"There’s a localized cosmic anoma
