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The elevator has never felt slower. Or smaller. Miles is three feet away but it feels like three inches. I have to respond to his offer.
I almost jump at the ding. I almost fall when I step into the hallway.
It's fifteen feet to my door.
Ten.
Five.
Zero.
I pull my key from my purse and slide it into the lock.
Miles moves closer, pinning me to the door. His chest is against my back. The warmth of his body sets me on fire.
This is already intense as hell.
Miles runs his fingers over my cheek. "Did you make your decision?"
His fingers trail down my neck and shoulders.
I don't understand it. How can he have such a sweet touch when he acts like he doesn't give a fuck about anything?
He brushes my hair behind my ear. "Turn around."
I release the key and turn. My eyes find his. He's staring at me, into me, through me.
I want him.
I want to do this.
M
iles presses his hand into my lower back, pulling my body into his. Our stomachs, our crotches, our thighs connect. Our lips are six inches apart. Then three.
My eyes close as our lips press together. It's been a long time since I've kissed anyone. I let him lead. It starts soft, a peck, then he's sucking on my lower lip.
Damn, he tastes good. I moan. I melt into his touch, letting him pull my body closer.
His tongue slides into my mouth. He shifts his hips, pinning me against the door.
He's hard.
Heat spreads through me like wildfire. I need to do this. Now.
Miles breaks the kiss and takes a half-step backwards. It gives me room to think, to breathe. But I don't want to think. I want his body against mine again.
I exhale slowly. "I want to do this, but not if I'm going to be some girl who's name you can't remember."
He stares back at me. "I don't do relationships."
"Me either. But… I don't want to be another notch in your bedpost."
His expression softens. "We're friends, right?"
"Something like that."
"Sinful Serenade is gonna be in Los Angeles for the rest of the year. We're recording our new album. It might be nice having something consistent."
