“What would… your secret spy code name be?” she replied.
“Oh, fuck,” I mumbled. What kind of question was that? Favorite color? I could answer that. It was sage green. But spy code name? Fuck. Who thought about that? I stumbled over my words as I tried to think of something. The way this woman could trip me up was practically the eighth wonder of the world. “I… I just… I think—”
“Don’t think!” May interrupted. Her shoulder bumped playfully into mine as she graced me with another one of those blinding smiles of hers. “What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”
“Sally.”
“Why?”
“My favorite movie isThe Nightmare Before Christmas.” Favorite was an understatement. It was a guilty pleasure, and the perfect movie for any time of year.
“Oooh! That’s such a good movie,” she said. “We’ll call you Ragdoll. That’s more incognito.”
“Okay, that’s not terrible.”I could live with that.“What about you?”
“Crashbaby,” she told me. I caught the way she studied my face as she said it, as if gauging how I’d respond.
“Why Crashbaby?”Such an odd choice.
“I’m just a feral little fuck.” May laughed, and all the tension eased from her body. I brushed it off as maybe she was just self-conscious of the nickname she was clearly used to. It was odd, but I wasn’t about to judge her for it.
“Crashbaby and Ragdoll,” I murmured. “We sound like a hell of a pair.”
“Yes, we do,” she agreed as she pulled me to a stop. “Hold still.”
Before I could ask her for what reason, she leaned in, and her lips brushed against my cheek.
It was the lightest of touches—barely there—but the effect was instantaneous. A spark ignited low in my spine and raced outward, making mybody melt. I bit down on my lip as I tried to stop the ridiculous, giddy smile bubbling inside me.
Somewhere nearby, Sadie said something about lighting or framing or whatnot, but her words were a million miles away. My world was zeroed in on May. The warmth of her body against mine, the lightness of her breath on my skin, the tightening of her hold on my fingers.
My hand came up, and my fingers slid into her hair, searching for something to cling to—something to steady myself on as the world tilted on its axis.
“For the shot,” she whispered, her lips curving against my cheek. She leaned back slightly to look at me. “I think she wants me to do it again.”
I wanted her to do it again.
I simply nodded. She leaned in for another staged kiss, but I turned as she did, my fingers tightening in her silky hair. Her breath hitched in her throat, or maybe it was mine that did. For one life-altering moment, those hazel-green eyes locked onto mine.
Everything in me stilled.
I wanted more.
Her mouth brushed against mine, slow and unhurried, like she was permitting me to pull away.
I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.
Her gaze flicked down to my lips and back up in a silent invitation. Want bloomed hot and fast in my core, stealing every sensible thought I had about being a stranger in front of a camera with her.
I closed the distance without hesitation.
It wasn’t gentle or tentative like most first kisses. It was a spark, sudden and impossible to ignore. Her lips were soft but sure, moving with an easy confidence that I found sexy. My free hand slid to her waist as the kiss deepened, the world shifting around us as I leaned into her.
Time unraveled.
There was only the exploration of her mouth, the quiet shared breath between us, and the dizzying realization that this absolute stranger felt more familiar than anyone ever had in my life. It was as if I’d known her my entire life and was just waiting for her to find me.
We broke apart only when we absolutely had to. We hovered there, lost in our own little corner of the world as we tried to catch our breath. Every nerve in my body buzzed with the same undeniable truth: this was different.
