He’s taking long, languid sips of my mouth, and I think my bones are melting. I want to be noting how much pressure he’s using, what angle our heads are, all the things that are important in a research log, but instead, I grasp his wrists and rise on to my tiptoes, trying to get closer. Aching for something I can’t name. When his tongue sweeps across my lips, my mouth opens in welcome like we’ve done this a thousand times. The stroke of his tongue stokes some kind of inner fire. I sigh in his mouth.

And then he pulls back, and thank God, he looks a little dazed too.

Shane puts his hand on my hip and turns me. “Hey, sweet girl,” he says, leaning down.

I expect him to go right for it. It is Shane after all. But he starts on my cheek pressing soft kisses to my skin. One hand stays on my hip, but the other cups my jaw and forces my gaze to lock onto his. His eyes are dilated. That is a visceral response you can’t fake. He’s turned on. The quickening of my heart makes me feel a little lightheaded.

“Sometimes,” he says, threading his fingers in my hair, “you don’t want to rush a kiss.”

My breath comes out in a ragged exhale. “You don’t?”

“Uh-uh. Gotta savor the moment. Take it slow.” He’s staring at my mouth. "You don't have to go straight for the lips," he says lowly, his lips brushing my jaw. "Kisses can be playful," he continues, demonstrating by gently sucking at my earlobe.

"Right," I say, shivering when I feel his hand brushing my hair aside, his lips whispering against my exposed skin as light as a feather.

"You can take your time, build the anticipation."

I hold my breath, my lips parting expectantly as he inches closer. Our noses rub, and he pauses, our lips nearly touching, making me wait several long seconds. I moan a little when his warm, moist mouth gently brushes against mine. Once, twice, three times like butterfly wings, leaving my lips tingling, hungry for more. He sucks my bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue.

I whimper when he pulls back.

"Wow," I utter breathlessly. I just kissed two men. The hottest men I know. Probably the hottest men a lot of women know.

A mischievous smile plays around Shane’s lips as if he can read my thoughts, the kinds of forbidden thoughts forming in my head.

"Come on, your turn. You want to learn how to do this properly, right? Show Fletch what you’re learning," he challenges.