His mouth was on mine again before I could speak, devouring me like he was making up for every year we spent apart. Every inch of my body responded to his touch—like I had been waiting, aching, starving for this moment without realizing it.

My fingers curled into his crisp white shirt, clinging to him as he kissed me harder. Deeper. His hand slid into my hair, tugging slightly as he angled my head just the way he liked. His other hand was on my waist, then lower, pressing me against the ...