Anna brushed her lips against his. They were soft and warm, just like she remembered. He stilled briefly at the contact. She pulled back, but he didn’t let her go. She let out a soft moan when he tightened his embrace. Pulling her close until there was nothing between them, he kissed her. He acted like they had all the time in the world, moving slowly and languidly, leaving little nips and kisses on the corners of her mouth, as if to savor the taste of her. She made a ridiculous whimper, and he chuckled. His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips until she acquiesced.

His hand gripped the back of her head, angling her as he wanted, holding her against the hard planes of his body. The kiss intensified as he thrust his tongue in her mouth and groaned as though he couldn’t get enough of her. She clutched his shirt, gripping it in her hands, needing to be closer. It was much, much better than she remembered. He snaked a hand under her sweatshirt. How were his hands so warm? His fingers splayed against her lower back, occasionally digging into her skin.

He moved to kiss her neck. She caught her breath, and her heart raced. She moaned when he kissed the sensitive spot on her collar bone. Now his hands were pulling at her hair tie. Frantic, she could think about nothing but him nudging her backward until she fell onto that massive bed or up against the desk, anywhere. He imbued her with unbridled desire she hadn’t felt in so long. He unlocked something inside her that she had hidden away, and having that again made her light-headed.

Why was she worried about her career when she could have been kissing John this whole time? What did she care about studios and producers when his body was pressed up against hers? What did it matter if someone wandered into the storeroom?

Wait. It would be a shit show if someone wandered into the storeroom. Anna couldn’t be caught making out with him. She pulled back, breaking the kiss in an awkward, hasty manner.

#

JOHN WISHED HE DIDN’T like Anna Kovács. It would make the next three weeks of his life so much easier if he could ignore what was between them and forget about that afternoon at the bar.

When Anna hesitated, he pulled back, his breath heaving. He took in her swollen lips and the flush on her cheeks.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, her voice rough. She released her grip on his T-shirt, her hands smoothing the wrinkles. “If the studio found out, or the press got ahold of it...”