“I think we should practice first,” he says gruffly, his voice so deep my toes curl. “I agree,” I breath. “We don’t want to stumble around awkwardly—” “They’ll know it’s our first time,” he cuts in. “Precisely.” His eyes grow hooded. “We can’t have that.” “No, not at all,” I practically purr. His breathing has grown labored, and his eyes haven’t left my lips this entire time. “Should we practice now?” he asks. “Ye—” I don’t finish the word before Grayson’s lips are smashing against mine.
