Stephanie's POV
His lips hit mine like a punch, but instead of pain, it was all heat. My brain screamed. Push him away. Slap him. This is Cane. This is dangerous. But my body? My body woke up from a five-year sleep. It went from zero to one hundred in a second.
Forgotten. I'd forgotten what a man's touch felt like. Not just any man. His touch.
His mouth was hard, demanding. It wasn't asking. It was taking. And God help me, I wanted him to take. My hands came up, my mind still yelling to shove him off, but they just landed on his arms. His biceps were solid rock under that stupid pineapple shirt. I could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric. My fingers curled, holding on instead of pushing away.
Then his hand was on my thigh, under the table. His big, rough palm slid up my leg, pushing my dress with it. The touch was like a live wire. It zapped me right out of the haze.
No. No way. This is not happening.
