“What are you doing?” she asks.
I turn to face her.
I don’t answer with words.
I reach over and cup the back of her neck with my hand. My fingers tangle in her hair as I pull her toward me.
Our lips meet. I taste the orange juice on her tongue. I taste the sweetness of her.
She gasps against my mouth. Her hands come up, fisting in the front of my shirt.
I angle my head, deepening the kiss. I nip at her bottom lip. She moans, a low sound in the back of her throat.
My heart is racing. It pounds against my ribs. My blood is on fire.
I want to drag her across the seat. I want to lay her down on the bench. I want to make that image in my head a reality.
But I force myself to pull back.
We’re both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are dilated.
“Wow,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say. My voice is wrecked. “Wow.”
I lean my forehead against hers.
“What is your plan?” I ask. “For today? What do you have on your itinerary?” I need to know. I need to know how much time I have with her.
She blinks. She seems to remember where we are.
“I have a meeting,” she says. “With Dr. Morales. At the clinic.”
“Now?”
“Around noon.”
I look at my watch. It’s 11:30.
“We have about half an hour still,” I say.
She looks at me. She bites her lip.
“What is your plan?” she asks, throwing my question back at me.
I grin. It’s a wolfish grin.
“My plan,” I say, “is to do that again.”
I drag her by the neck again and kiss her hard. I pour everything into it.
The years of longing. The jealousy. The love. The image of her round and glowing.
She kisses me back. Her nails rake across my scalp.
We’re lost in each other. The world outside disappears.
Until a noise breaks through the haze. Thundering hooves.
