“Almost.” He raises a brow. “What did I tell you about the word ‘almost’?” When I shrug at him, he says, “Apparently, someone wants to almost come tonight.” I blink up at him, lips parted on a gasp. “Please don’t.” “Then tell me you’re mine.” I get on my tiptoes and sweep my lips across his. “I’m yours.”

“Almost.” He raises a brow. “What did I tell you about the word ‘almost’?” When I shrug at him, he says, “Apparently, someone wants to almost come tonight.” I blink up at him, lips parted on a gasp. “Please don’t.” “Then tell me you’re mine.” I get on my tiptoes and sweep my lips across his. “I’m yours.”

— Morgan Bridges