The world tilted sideways as Sydney's hands found my chest and shoved. My back collided with the payment desk, the edge digging into my spine, and before I could process what was happening—before I could even draw breath to ask—her mouth was on mine.
Every thought scattered like smoke.
My hands hung suspended in the air for a heartbeat, two, uncertain and trembling, before gravity and instinct pulled them down to settle on the curves of her hips. Sydney kissed me like she was claiming something fiercely, her lips moving against mine with an intensity that made my knees threaten to give out. The pressure of her mouth sent heat cascading through my veins, liquid fire spreading from where we connected outward to every nerve ending in my body.
Her lips were so impossibly soft—warm and plush and tasting faintly of cherry chapstick. The scent of her overwhelmed me sameways.
