He groans and my core melts at the sound. “Kissing you would be a cataclysmic mistake.” “Calamitous.” What would it take to hear that groan again? The inches between us feel like kindling, ready to burn at the first suggestion of heat, and I’m a living, breathing flame. This is everything I should run from, and yet denying the primal attraction I feel is completely, utterly impossible. “We’ll both regret it.” He shakes his head, but there’s more than hunger in his eyes as he stares at my lips. “Naturally,” I whisper. But knowing I’ll regret it doesn’t stop me from wanting it—wanting him.
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