Jordan swore under his breath and turned away like he might put distance between them, but Brooklyn grabbed his shirt, tugging him back. The sharp defiance in her eyes made something inside him snap.

The kiss hit like fire catching dry wood. One second, she was daring him; the next, his mouth was crushing hers, rough and bruising, teeth clashing. His hands tangled in her hair, dragging her head back so he could devour her throat. She gasped, the sound half a moan, nails raking down his back through his shirt.

“You’re playing with fire,” he growled against her skin.

“Then burn me.”

He shoved her back against the wall,...