His thumb traced her bottom lip. Once. Twice.
Leighton's heart hammered so hard she was sure he could hear it. Feel it. The candlelight made his eyes darker, unreadable. But the heat in them was unmistakable.
He leaned in. Slowly. Giving her time to pull away.
She didn't move. Didn't breathe.
His forehead touched hers. Their noses brushed. She could feel his breath on her lips, warm and smelling faintly of wine. Another inch and they'd be kissing.
Just one more inch.
His hand tightened on her jaw. His other hand found her waist, pulling her closer. Her hands gripped his shirt, bunching the fabric between her fingers.
"Leighton," he whispered against her mouth.
"Yeah?"
His lips hovered over hers. Not quite touching. The anticipation was torture. Sweet, aching torture.
Then he stop
