Lola's POV

His lips touched mine. It was just a brush at first. Soft. Testing. But the moment his skin met mine, a heavy heat flooded my chest. I wanted him. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. The pull was too strong. My hands moved up to his chest, gripping his shirt. He groaned slightly, shifting closer, parting my lips with his.

The taste of him sent my mind backwards. Suddenly, I wasn't in this house. I wasn't bruised and battered from an ambush. I was in the back in his car three years ago. ...