“I missed you,” he admitted after a moment.

The drop of sweat rolled down the side of his temple, down his jaw, and without planning it—I reached for it. When my fingertip hit his jaw, he held still against my hand.

He wanted to touch me, and I wanted the same—I wanted to give him something of myself—and so neither of us looked away or broke the spell, and then—we kissed—I kissed him—he kissed me back—that round pout of his mouth landing on mine. I pulled him to me, collapsed into him, felt my body wrap inevitably around his, and I didn’t wonder for a single second whether or not it was a good idea, because we were really kissing, kissing, the endless kind of kissing. Long, searching kisses, kisses that exist as an end unto themselves, kisses that are as alive and as intimate as anything else you could do with two bodies, kisses that are as real a conversation as the first time you stay up all night talking.

He ran his hand up my bare leg, all the way to the ragged hem of my shorts. Then he flattened his palm, wrapped his fingers around me, and squeezed. His nails left half-moon dents in the fat of my thigh, white bites haloed in red that bloomed and faded.

I never wanted that feeling to end—not then and not ever.

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Someone honked. Once, twice, I don’t know how many times. Soon they were laying into the horn, and the sound separated us. Tyler wrenched open the studio door. I remained on the bench, out of sight of whoever was behind the wheel.

“Shark. I’m in the middle of something,” he snapped.

“SO AM I!” she snapped back, insistent. “You promised!”

“Oh. Right. Five minutes,” he said, tilting his head, raising one hand in apology. “I’ll see you in the studio.” He shut the door and returned to my embrace, his mouth back on mine. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I promised Marlin I’d help her tonight. We have to fix her monotype machine.”

“That’s okay,” I said, palm flying to my chin. I could tell it was turning red and raw already. “We should probably take a break. I don’t have a callus for you,” I said, tracing the edges of his stubble.

“Don’t worry.” He laughed, pushing his cheek against mine, burying his face in my neck. “You’ll grow one.” He put a finger on my chin. I opened my mouth and bit it.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he said, and then we were wrapped up again, for thirty long seconds, before he extricated himself.

“Ahem,” he said, taking both my hands and helping me down from the bench. “To be continued.”