Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

It’s too much fun to mess with her. There’s no way Annie is any kind of serious. She’s just trying to ignite some sort of protective instinct in me, hoping that I’ll agree to be her coach. “Probably. I mean, yes. Definitely lots and lots of…” she swallows, “sexy times on the horizon.” “Wow, that’s going to be great. You’ll have a blast,” I say, enjoying this taunting way too much before noticing Annie’s eyes drop to my lips. And just like that, she steals the entire show again. All of my thunder is gone and I can’t think straight with her eyes fixed on my mouth like that. I try to hold still because I know she’s thinking about kissing me right now, and I can’t let her. I want to—oh God, I want to—but I can’t. Every single one of my skin cells ache for me to step forward and press our bodies together. But I can’t do that because I’m scared what will become of me if I do. But neither of us steps away, and somehow the knuckles of my free hand brush against hers. Her fingers respond and lightly move against mine. Our fingers never intertwine; we just let our skin brush a controlled fire against the other. How is this the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me? And now, to hell with it, I have to kiss her. No, I have to do more than kiss her—I need to press her against this doorframe and feel our bodies collide.