His body moved, and before I knew what he was doing, the very tips of his fingers touched my cheek. The contact carried a muted static charge. He lowered his head, and I felt his nose brush my other cheek. When he spoke, his tone was oddly rough. “Peaches.” I inhaled sharply. “It’s … it’s my lotion.” “You’ve said that before.” Luc lingered there, his warm breath puffing against my skin. “I’ll call you, okay?” “Okay,” I whispered, feeling like every breath I took wasn’t enough. He pulled back, letting his fingers slip from my cheek.
