First kiss:

All he needed was probably a hug from a caring friend. Holly heaved a deep breath, inhaled his healthy masculine scent and a hint of lemon fragrance, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You’re welcome, Marc. Holler if you need me.”

“Ah, I need you, all right.” Marc brought her hard against him.

She threw her head back, eyes wide and turquoise. A bewildered expression spread over her face, but her limpid gaze reflected the same desire that simmered through his blood.

It was the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong reason. His brain screamed no. His body tensed, throbbing against her softness. “Damn it, woman. I need you so much.” He lowered his head and met her parted lips.

“Oh Marc,” she murmured, their hearts drumming together as she laced her fingers behind his neck.

He crushed his mouth to hers. Hunger and despair mingled in his demanding kiss. She responded with the same passion he’d tasted seven years ago. The same fervor he’d eagerly wished to recapture in the last few weeks.

She pulled back to drag in air. His lips abandoned hers and trailed along her jaw, while his fingers played with a lock of her hair. She didn’t move out of his embrace but turned her head toward him and met his gaze with a question in her eyes.

He groaned, squeezing her against him. She was his anchor to sanity. Blocking the memory of last night, the agonizing hurt, he let his lust submerge his pain. Without hesitation, without taking the time to tease or taste, he devoured her lips like a starving man.

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