“What do we do now?” I wonder out loud, nuzzling my cheek into his palm. The gesture seems to awaken him and he moves in closer, until our bodies are almost touching. His hard gaze caresses my face, trying to read me. Trying to pull answers out of my eyes—like if he looks close enough, he’ll find them. He will. Dean lowers his hand to my neck, his fingers catching on my hair. He leans down to press a light kiss to my forehead, his lips hovering against my hairline as he whispers, “I’m not sure, Corabelle. All I know is that I want to kiss you more than I want air.”
