Forcing myself away from the assault of his lips on the one spot that will inevitably cause me to come undone, I grab him, cupping his stubbled jaw and taking a moment to look at him in the dim light. His face is pure sex. Or maybe he’s just still drunk, or half-asleep. I can’t tell. Either way, it’s sexy as hell. Hooded eyes, a lazy smile, mussed hair. He’s all kinds of beautiful, and my heart shifts suddenly in my chest as I take in his perfection.

“What are we doing?” I find myself asking in a whisper so soft I’m doubtful he even heard it.

Cupping my face, his hands are so tentative, soft and gentle as if I’m fragile, like I might break. His gaze penetrates mine in a look so intense I know he can see all of me, even the bits I’ve tried to hide my whole life. I’m open to him in a way I’ve never been open to anyone, and it’s both terrifying and exciting.

“Who cares …?” he murmurs, inching closer and closer until his lips are a mere hair’s breadth from my own.

Pulling him closer, I need his mouth like I need air to breathe, and he obliges without hesitation. His hands roam all over my body before finding their place in my hair, raking through the lengths as his tongue finds mine, producing a moan that only seems to encourage him. Pushing me back against the pillows, Harley nudges my knees apart with his thigh before settling in between my legs. As our tongues dance together, exploring one another, I smile into our kiss and I swear it takes everything I have not to outwardly giggle like a schoolgirl.

I’m having sex with Harley Shaw. Harley freakin’ Shaw. I wonder if I pinch myself, would I wake up? Would I even want to wake up if this was a dream that could end so abruptly? Focus, Murph. Harley’s lips move to pepper kisses over my jaw, my neck and shoulders, his hand trailing down my arm, to my waist, following the curve of my hips as desire pools low in my belly. My heart thunders in my chest as a comforting warmth floods through me. His lips claim me entirely.

And, in that moment, I realize that something has changed between us. This isn’t just some drunken, forgettable thing we will inevitably regret. This is real. The feel of his lips hovering against the shell of my ear as he breathes heavily against my skin causes me to shiver, as do his long fingers as they dance over my skin. My head falls back into the pillows, and his lips find mine once more, his tongue invading my mouth desperately. When our touches, kisses and our animalistic sounds become all too much, Harley pulls away abruptly, his eyes glaring through the muted light as they search every inch of my face, his breathing labored and trembling as his gaze sets upon my own.