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I try to look away from his mouth, but I can’t, and it’s not because my neck feels like wood.
My eyes aren’t working either—or maybe they’re working too well—and all I can see is the way his bottom lip is slightly fuller than his top and—
I don’t know if he kisses me first.
Or do I kiss him?
Can you really pinpoint the precise second a storm rips open and unleashes its lightning?
One second, I’m staring at his lips like a woman possessed.
The next, his full, delicious mouth presses down on mine with a growl that’s all thunder, reaching up inside me.
Just a brush of parted lips and unexpected potential that feels like a cloud-to-ground strike.
I feel it ineverysearing bit of me.
His pressure.
His voice.
His claiming, harsh tension, snapping as he loses his own fight, as hegives in.
For the briefest second, I belong to Shepherd Foster in a way that makes me worry I’ll be fit for anyone else.
Again, all lightning.
Blink once and it’s over.
We jerk back, physically rocked, staring at each other in shock.
I see my horror reflected in his eyes, which are so dark and conflicted now. Thrashing blue fire on unsettled water.
Crap, crap, crap.
We just kissed.
Ijust kissed my boss.
Or he kissed me or—
Whatever.
It doesn’t matter. This is an insta-termination waiting to happen. He’s had so much trouble lately with that actress accusing him of the worst, he’ll have zero tolerance for more trouble.
Eep.
Could he even press charges?
I don’t know how he can prove anything.
But if I didn’t instigate it, I certainly didn’tmind.
I wanted it as bad as he did—and we both tasted desperation.
Even though he’s still holding me up, I feel like I’m falling.
If I could hit the ground, I would.
