I stare at her, that tug straining in my stomach, my blood so hot it’s scorching. I grip the edge of the door. “Get out before I kiss you,” I snarl through my teeth. She stops laughing and looks at me. Her cheeks pinken. The air seems to crackle with electricity and I can hear her breath hitch. I grip the doorframe so hard my knuckles bleach. “Maybe I want you to kiss me,” she whispers in her head and more images flood her mind, images of me bending down to press my mouth to hers, images of me lifting her up and pressing her against the door, images of me laying her out across my desk. I stand
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HOW THE HELL DID WE GET HERE BRO
