9

“Yes.”

Then, there was no reason to wait.

I took a step closer, halting directly in front of her, our bodies only breaths apart. I placed my palm against the wall above her head, her body caged beneath me. “Do you want me to make you scream so loud that everyone in the bar can hear you?” I leaned my face into her ear. “Is that what you want from me?”

She was quivering.

Panting.

When her teeth skimmed her lip this time, it was a slow, painful scrape. “I don’t want an audience”—she took several breaths—“but yes. Yes to all of it.”

I gripped her face, aiming it up to mine.

I didn’t kiss women.

Lips were something I could easily get attached to.

They were the most personal part of a woman’s body.

They expressed emotions. They spoke the truth. They even tried to mask and hide the real feelings inside.

I didn’t fuck with them.

But as I gazed down at Hannah’s mouth, it was so goddamn beautiful. Those full, pouty lips, silently begging for mine.

She was giving herself to me.

And I’d accept ev