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She makes a noise—a gasp, maybe a laugh—and her hands fly to my chest, grabbing fistfuls of my jacket. “Then stop pretending, you idiot.”

I don’t need more encouragement. I crush my mouth to hers, and the world goes white.

She melts against me, lips sweet and hungry, arms winding around my neck. I wrap her up, holding her so tight I’m scared I’ll break her, but she just presses closer, tongue tangling with mine like she’s waited her whole life to devour me. Her body is soft, every curve fitting against me in a way that feels inevitable. Like coming home.

We kiss until I can’t breathe, until her lipstick smears across my mouth and her hands slide up into my hair, yanking hard enough to make me groan. I’m dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of her, the feel of her thighs pressed tight to mine.

When I finally pull back, we’re both panting. Her eyes are huge, lips swollen, hair a wild mess. She looks like a goddess and a disaster and everything I’ve ever wanted.

I rest my forehead against hers. “You drive me fucking insane, you know that?”

She grins, breathless. “Ditto, Brennan.”

For a minute, we just stand there, clinging to each other like idiots. Then I tilt her chin up and kiss her again, softer this time, savoring the feel of her.

“Was this your plan all along?” I murmur against her mouth.

She laughs, low and wicked. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see what it’d take to get you to finally kiss me.”

“Next time, just ask,” I say, biting her lower lip for good measure.

She moans—a tiny, perfect sound that goes straight to my cock—and slides her hands under my jacket, palms hot against my back.

I want her. I want all of her. And now that I have her, I’m never letting go.