8
Sarah
I let my head fall back, looking up at him. He stares down at me, bringing his hand up to push back a couple pieces of hair that are plastered to my forehead.
I don’t dare to breathe. I don’t dare to speak. I’m frozen under his beautiful green gaze, waiting for him to make a move.
Smith cups my cheek, running his thumb roughly along the outline of my lips. He bites his bottom lip; for the first time since I’ve met him, I know without a doubt what he is thinking.
He wants me.
Suddenly I push up onto my tiptoes, bringing my lips a fraction of an inch from his. I gaze into his eyes, asking him a wordless question. Is it worth it?
Almost begging. His gaze flickers down to my lips. I can feel his breath against my mouth, his warm breath fanning across my skin.
Then he closes the
