MAYA’S POVThe term ‘heat’ was aptly coined.Not the usual decadent warmth of desire, but an innate, biological shift—clinging, raising my temperature, blurring emotion with sensation, refusing to be ignored.Dinner lasted barely an hour. We started composed—wine, quiet conversation, Ethan’s knee brushing mine—but the closeness became unbearable quickly.The heat coiled tighter with every passing minute, fed by the bond, by his proximity, by the way my body reacted faster than my mind could keep up with.I couldn’t focus on the food, couldn’t sit still beneath the weight of it, and Ethan sensed it without a word.One look passed between us, and tension shifted to urgency. Moments later, we stood, mumbling apologies to the waiter as we left behind unfinished plates.We’d barely made it through the front door before we were tangled together, shoes kicked off somewhere behind us.His mark burned faintly at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, a warm, steady, living presence beneath my sk
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