Book 11: This Time Is Different

Misty

Cole backs me against the doorframe, his body curling over mine to chase my mouth as I lower my feet to the floor. The memory of our kiss from the party weeks ago clogs my brain for several delicious seconds. He tastes the same. Warm and minty. His lips are soft but demanding as his tongue slides over my lower lip, beckoning for me to open for him. 

The towel covering my body is holding on by a thread as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me up, pinning me against the doorframe and pressing his body to mine. My hand drags down his back, leaving a trail of my healing powers. He trembles, and the kiss turns to something hungry and… wild. 

“Stop healing me,” he breathlessly commands. 

“No,” I counter, but his mouth steals the word from my lips. 

It doesn’t strike me that we should stop. There’s no reason for this. This attraction, this bone-shattering need I’ve felt since we slept together for the first time