Cecilia's povThe thought was still hanging there, a ghost in the room, when he murmured, "Still thinking?"I knew the right answer. The safe one. No.But my body wasn't listening to any of that logic.It was too busy reacting to him, to how he smelled like spice and a coming storm--something addictive and outright dangerous.His presence alone scattered my thoughts. Fuck it."Lock the door," I whispered, the words out before I could catch them.The deadbolt clicked into place, a sound of pure finality.Then his mouth was on mine, and every thought burned up in the heat.The kiss was hungry, urgent, a collision of need that left no room for second-guessing.My arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the hard lines of his body through his clothes.In the middle of it, that old, primal craving rose in the back of my throat.I broke the kiss, my lips finding the corded line of his neck.I nipped at the skin, not hard, but with definite intent."Easy, Cecilia," he rumbled,
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