Reed sets the bag of takeout down on the sofa table then walks over and pulls me to him. “I fucking can’t stop thinking about you.” He leans down and presses his lips against mine. His hands, strong and calloused, hold my back, pressing me to him. Before things get carried away, I pull my lips from his and take a step back. “You said you’d behave.” Shrugging sheepishly, he laughs. “I said I would try. I did.” “Now let me feed you.”
