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But. I. Want to.

When she’s on the top step, she turns around. I draw up short, heart lurching.

“Thanks for listening,” she says. “I don’t usually confide in strangers?—”

“I’m not a stranger.”

Our gazes lock. The space between us tightens, sparking with electricity that works its way into my skin as her eyes slip to my mouth.

Holy fuck, isMolliegoing to kissme?

“No,” she says. “You’re not.”

Then she goes up on her toes and wraps me in a hug.

I’m so taken aback that I just stand there for a second like an idiot.

I know this kind of hug. Her arms circling my neck, chest and belly pressed against mine.

She likes the contact. The feel of my body touching hers.

She wants more of it.

Need roars inside me, my blood crackling with the desire to give this girl exactly what she’s asking for. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her even closer, burying my face in her neck.

Even after a night spent dancing at The Rattler, she smells real fucking good. Sweet, like girlie shampoo and that sexy perfume of hers.

“Let’s not murder each other, okay?” Her voice is different. Barely above a whisper.

My voice is different, too, when I reply, “I make no promises.”

“You’re difficult, you know that?”

“Wouldn’t be fun if I made things easy.”

She scoffs, her breath ruffling the hair on the nape of my neck. “You’re anything but easy, Cash.”

Honey, you kiss me, and you’ll see just how easy I can be.

All she has to do is ask. Make the move. And I’ll have her on her back with my face between her legs in two seconds flat.

My dick perks up at the thought of her being wet. If I put my hand up her skirt, what would I find? Ridiculous silk panties, probably.

And a hot, tight pussy, swollen from a night of dancing and touching and flirting.

My pulse blares at the same moment Mollie releases me, falling back just enough that our eyes meet again.

She looks at me.

I look back.

I’m acutely aware of the way my heartbeat has migratedto my lips. Hers part, revealing a glimpse of white teeth just inside the pink seam of her mouth.

My hands are on her waist. Hers are on my chest.

I try very hard to remember all the reasons why kissing Mollie Luck is a terrible idea.

I try, and I fail.