The kitchen counter was cold.

 Anna wasn’t.


 She was already gasping when Luke lifted her onto it, robe riding high around her hips, bare thighs spread wide like an offering he hadn’t earned but was about to take anyway.


 His palms gripped her legs, his thumbs dragging slow circles over her skin, his jaw tight with restraint. His voice came low, like he was already halfway gone.


 “You’re really not giving me a second to breathe.”


 Her smile was dangerous. “No one told you to come up.”


 “I didn’t come up,” he said, sliding between her legs. “You dragged me.”


 She leaned in, her mouth grazing his. “You didn’t exactly...