The kiss didn't end. Sam's hands cupped her face first, but soon they slid down—touching, grasping, needing. His mouth never left hers, except to catch a breath or whisper something broken into her skin.
"I missed you," he said into the space between her jaw and collarbone. "So damn much."
Selena's fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling it up over his head with more need than precision. Her breath was heavy against his chest, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted like she still hadn't caught her breath from their hallway explosion. Every part of her trembled with restraint unraveling. Days of silence, of aching, of pretending not to need him like this, had crumbled the moment he kissed her.
He pulled back just long enough to look at her.
Her blouse was halfway undone already from his earlier frenzy. Now, he slowed, his fingers brushing the fabric, gently slipping each button open as if the act alone meant something.
