Andrew hesitated for an instant, his entire body tense, but then he said, “Fine.”
He reached across the car and slid his hand behind the back of my head, pulling me into a hot, fierce kiss. I climbed across the seat to get on top of him, pressing frantic kisses along his jaw, his neck, anything. His hands were all over me and his mouth touched every inch of bare skin he could find, but when I started to unzip his slacks, he stopped me.
“Inside,” he said. “Now.”
He led me up the stairs and into his apartment. We were kissing again the second we got inside, before he could turn on the lights. We banged against the wall, lips locked, while he slammed the door shut behind us. Our movements were rushed, like we needed to burn off the anger from the fight as fast as we could. Or like we were
