"Five minutes," Grayson repeated, his deep voice dropping an octave as he reached out and took Mailah's phone from her hand. He placed it face down on the low wooden table, out of reach. "A digital clock has no place in an affair of the heart."
Mailah opened her mouth to object, but Grayson moved with terrifying, smooth grace. Before she could utter a single word, his hand was at the back of her neck, his long fingers buried softly in her dark hair. He pulled her flush against his chest, leaning down to press his lips to hers with a quiet, hungry intensity that instantly turned her brain to mush.
