Even though it’s happening fast in one fluid movement, I see it all. The look. The lean. The way his head tilts. The masculine one-arm waist grab. The way I gasp when he pulls me to him like he doesn’t just want me…but needs me. The intentional way his lips devour mine, kissing me like he just returned from battle, like he’s starved and I’m the only thing that can satisfy, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. You can’t plan a kiss like this. It’s something you feel. It’s straight out of a romance book.
