He leaned in closer, his black-brown eyes making my body want to do things my brain knew it shouldn’t. His lips were an inch from mine, and I could smell his cinnamon breath. I hate him. I hate him. “Don’t,” I whispered. His eyes searched mine. “I promise. Not unless you ask.” His mouth dipped to the side and lightly grazed my cheek. Unwanted pleasure escaped my throat, and I let out a little moan. Dammit!
