“That I don’t want you to think this is why I came here,” Summer breathed. “That I want to kiss you again and again … that I don’t want to be the latest in your long line of conquests.” Her hand tightened on his. “That I cannot choose.”
“Of course that’s not why I think you came here,” he looked down at her with furrowed brows. He moved his face in closer to hers, as if going to kiss her again, but stopped just before her mouth. “Then don’t choose,” he whispered before pressing his lips to hers again.
A low groan escaped her throat when she opened her mouth for him, all the whirling scenarios finally coming down to one thing, wiped flat by input. She couldn’t help pushing up on her toes, wanting to get closer, wanting more. Her eyelids fluttered, lashes brushing against his face.