As we step into the elevator of the parking garage and the doors close us in, I feel my temperature rise. He turns toward me with hunger in his eyes as he corners me against the wall. “Look at me,” he commands, and I lift my gaze to his face. “Hands behind your back,” he says, and the way he tells me exactly what to do sends chills down my spine. Like the condensation on a glass of sweet iced tea left out in the sun, I melt under his scorching gaze. When his lips move toward me, my heart races and my head turns slightly. His kiss lands against the rapid pulse of my neck, and I forget how to
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