“You’re not kissing me,” I insisted. In hindsight, the warning was a tad presumptuous since he’d never kissed me before. But to be fair, he really looked like he wanted to kiss me. “I’d rather wring your pretty little neck right now,” he said, eyes narrowing on my mouth. I licked my lips, preparing to definitely not kiss him. The low rumble in his chest vibrated through my body as he dipped his head toward mine. A new vibration interrupted us. “Fuck,” he hissed, yanking his phone out of his pocket. “What?” He listened, then let out a string of colorful curses. “Don’t let him past the bar. I’ll
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