Nina panicked, her cheeks flushing a deep, betraying red as Lucas leaned in, his chest brushing against hers. The rough fabric of his sweatshirt grazed her exposed nipples, and she let out a soft, involuntary whimper, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
The warmth of him, the scent of cedarwood and something darker, more intoxicating, wrapped around her like a vice. Heat radiated off him in waves, and his presence seemed to pull at her with an almost gravitational force, as if her body had already decided it belonged to him, long before her mind had agreed to any such thing.
Some traitorous part of her leaned into that pull, and she hated herself a little for it, hated the way her breath had gone shallow and her thoughts had scattered like startled birds.
"Erm… it's not what you think," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. But even as she said it, she knew how ridiculous she sounded.
