I release my grip on the back of her neck, but she doesn’t automatically pull back. Her teeth catch my lower lip, and she tugs. The little bit of pain doubles the urge to maul her right now. Then she sits back entirely, her face turning red. “We’re together,” I inform her… and the rest of the table. Her brows lower. “Um, I don’t think—” “You’re not going to think about it.” My stomach grumbles. I’ve got practice in an hour, and I’m fucking hungry. So I turn back to my food and dig in, ignoring everyone’s looks.
