Emily’s POV

Daniel's chest heaved beneath me, his silver eyes blown wide with something between shock and hunger. The cashmere sweater bunched under my fists as I pinned his wrists above his head, my thighs squeezing his hips through the dark denim.

"Emily," he rasped, voice scraping like gravel. "You've been avoiding me for two weeks and now you're—"

"Shut up," I breathed against his throat, dragging my tongue along the corded muscle of his neck. Salt and cologne. God, I missed this. "I don't want to talk about the last two weeks. I don't want to talk at all."

His hips bucked involuntarily, the hard ridge of his cock...