SAGE
The kiss shouldn't have happened.
That was my first thought—not shock, not anger, but a sharp, clinical recognition that something had gone off-script.
Adam's mouth was suddenly on mine, warm and insistent, and for a single suspended second my body froze while my mind scrambled to catch up.
My eyes stayed open. I watched his close instead.
There was something almost reverent in the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, the way his brow eased as though this—this—was a relief he hadn't known he was holding his breath for.
The cave's low light caught on the sharp lines of his face, softened them, made him look dangerously human.
Then his lips moved.
Slow. Certain. Like he already knew the shape of my mouth.
The breath left me in a quiet, traitorous sound.
No. Absolutely not.
Except my body disagreed.
