“What are we?” I whisper. I inch closer to him. Just a tad. Lean forward. Feel him. Smell him. I can almost taste him. This man…this man is salvation. “I don’t know,” he admits, the tip of his nose touching mine for a brief moment. “Me neither.” “But whatever it is,” his hand moves in my peripheral, but I don’t dare disconnect my gaze from his, “it’s already happening, and I can’t make it stop.” Just like that, his mouth comes crushing down on mine.
