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“No. ” My fingers close into a fist. “My family is really, really. . . ” Messed up. “Complicated. ”

“You told me that,” he says. “At my apartment. ”

Yeah, I did.

“Are you in danger at home?” he asks.

“No,” I answer immediately. “They just expect a lot. . . from me. ”

He nods like he gets it. “Will seeing me be a problem?”

While there’s this overwhelming voice screaming yes in the back of my mind, there’s a smile twisting on my face and I bring my hands together in front of me, feeling suddenly shy. Did he just say. . . ? “So we’re seeing each other?”

Isaiah touches an earring. “Yeah. I guess we are. ”

My head bobs back and forth because I so need more. “Like more than friends?”

“We can be friends if you want. But. . . ”

“But what?” My stomach begins to plummet. Did I misread all of this?

His gray eyes bore into mine with an intensity I’ve never seen from anyone before. “But I want more. ”

“More?” I whisper.

“I want to kiss you again. ”

A heat wave crashes into my body and I tug at the collar of my winter coat. I could take this thing off and probably still sweat. The memories of his mouth moving against mine and how his hands pressed into my body flood my brain. I lick my lips in anticipation. I crave for him to kiss me again, but. . . “Are you going to call me after?”

A small grin plays on his lips. “You aren’t going to cut me any slack, are you?”

It’s like he’s begging me to tease him, and without thought, I slide back to the braver girl at the bar. “Is that a problem?”

He shakes his head. “Not from you. ”

Isaiah pushes off his car and invades my personal space. His dark scent envelops me and my heart literally trips several times as it tries to continue to beat. Even though he doesn’t touch me, it’s like Isaiah is everywhere. Only centimeters separate us, but his warmth surrounds me like a bubble.

I have to force myself to lift my chin to look at him. His gray eyes soften, and there’s this playful aura to him, accompanied by a devious tilt of his mouth.

“I feel like a mouse with you,” I whisper. “The one that’s already been caught by the cat. ”

That’s when he touches me. Isaiah runs his hand through my hair, and every cell in my body vibrates with the gentle pull. “Rachel. ”

“Yes. ” It’s hard to breathe.

“Kiss me. ”

Isaiah doesn’t wait for my answer. Instead his lips meet mine and his arms wrap around my body. All the hesitancy I felt the first night we kissed evaporates like mist on the heels of a summer storm. Within seconds, our mouths open, and Isaiah slips his tongue against mine. I get lost, liking the way my body curves around his, liking the way my hands explore as if they have a mind of their own, and loving how Isaiah grips my hair while tracing my spine.

Tingles and shock waves and earthquakes and hurricanes. All of it takes place at the same time as our mouths move not nearly fast enough. Nothing seems fast enough. The closer I become, the closer Isaiah presses, and the more he presses, the more I want to crawl inside and live in this delicious world of warmth and fantastic hunger.

Isaiah hooks an arm around my waist, and I suck in a breath when he turns us and shifts me up against the door to his Mustang. My eyes widen and I stare up at him as he stares down at me. Our chests move in unison, as do our breaths. My fingers curl into the muscles of his arms, and I briefly close my eyes, loving how his body fits into mine.

As much as I love it. . . this is so, so new. “That was a pretty awesome second kiss. ”

“I agree. How about a third?”

I giggle, and that rare genuine smile spreads across his face.

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