ELLA

I don’t think. I just act.

My hands fist Devlin’s shirt, yanking him down hard as my lips crash into his. It’s desperate, messy—teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a frenzy of heat and need that wipes my brain clean.

I pull back sharply. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper against his mouth. “But I don’t fucking care. I want you and I know damn well you want me too. So shut up and kiss me.”

The corner of his lips pulls up in a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.” Devlin ...