“He’s here, but you can still—” The words died when I turned and found Danny right in front of me. “Hey.”
He stepped closer, and my back hit the wall, my heart slamming hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
“Do you think we can pick up where we left off in the shoot?” he asked, eyes locked on mine, unblinking.
My stomach flipped. “What do you mean?”
His hands came up to my neck as he leaned in. We were close enough now that our noses nearly brushed.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
Oh. Fuck.
“I thought you didn’t…”
He did that restless thing again, rocking slightly on his feet. “I wanted it to be ours,” he said, quieter now. “Not for the camera.”
That hit me square in the chest.
He wanted to kiss me.
I couldn’t get words past the tightness in my throat—not with him this close, not with my brain short-circuiting like this. My hands slid to his waist, solid and sun-heated under my palms even through his shirt, and I pulled him in before I could overthink it. Tilted my head. Closed the distance.
His lips were warm when they met mine.
We broke apart on a shared breath, then came back together again, slower this time. Softer.
The way he kissed—fuck—it was careful, unhurried, like he wasn’t trying to take anything I hadn’t offered. It left me unsteady in the best possible way.
More soft presses. More stolen breaths. That low, charged hum building between us.
And when our lips parted again and our tongues brushed for the first time, it felt like an explosion. Heat shot through me, all the way to my fingertips.
How could anyone taste this good?
My hands slid over his back, up between his shoulder blades, pulling him in. He was solid under my palms, all muscles and coiled tension. Danny’s arms looped around my neck, keeping the pace slow, drawn out. Every brush of his tongue, every press of his lips, every scrape of his barely there stubble against my mouth scattered my thoughts until there was nothing left but him.
When he finally rested his forehead against mine to breathe, I didn’t quite stop. As he eased back, my mouth followed, soft kisses along the edge of his lips, his cheek. I felt his smile against me.
“That definitely works,” he murmured.
I let out a quiet laugh. “Definitely.”
His fingers traced the short hair at my nape. “So… how about that shower?”
I froze, my mouth still against his jaw.
“I wasn’t implying anything,” he added quickly, laughing under his breath. “Just a lonely shower.”
I pulled back enough to look at him. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want to,” I said honestly. “Because I would.”
His arms tightened again, just a fraction.
“I’m just not the fastest guy with things like this.”
Something flickered in his eyes—hopeful and uncertain all at once.
“You don’t do casual.” It wasn’t a question.
