When she opened her mouth to protest, I slammed my lips against hers. I momentarily braced myself for Addison to physically assault me for manhandling her the way I was. Instead, her reaction shocked the hell out of me. As her body melted into mine, the warmth of her tongue brushed against my lips. Opening my mouth, my tongue sought out hers.

Holy.

Fucking.

Hell.

It was meant to be the thrill of Addison’s life. It was meant to prove that we could do this if needed. It was meant to be like kissing a wall for me.

It wasn’t meant to be a kiss that would completely reshape my opinion of the brunette in my arms.

Fuck.

ADDISON

Holy. Shit.

Barrett Callahan was one hell of a kisser. His lips had the combustive ability to melt your thong right off while simultaneously sending a rushing geyser between your legs—but it wasn’t just his lips. It was the feel of his hard, muscled body pressing against mine, and the way his fingers tangled through the strands of my hair, slightly tugging on the ends. I loved a good hair pulling from time to time. Most of the guys I knew took a little while to work up to it, but not Barrett.

In the movies, this was when the girl would clasp the back of her hand to her forehead before swooning into a puddle on the floor. After my many manless months, I’d forgotten how incredible kissing could be, but this most definitely exceeded all expectation, not to mention blowing all my prior experiences out of the water.

I didn’t know who exactly broke the kiss the first—we both seemed to just pop away from the other at the same time, like a suction cup coming unhinged. We both stood there, our bodies swaying slightly as we stared at each other. After blinking a few times, I brought my fingers to my swelling lips. “Um, I…”

Yes, ladies and gentleman, one kiss from Barrett had stripped me of all coherent thought and the ability to form sentences.

“Uh…yeah, well…” Barrett replied before clearing his throat several times. “I’m glad we took care of that.”

“Me too.”

“Everything in that department works fine.”

“Yep.”

Another awkward silence permeated the air around us. When Barrett finally spoke, I jumped. “I’m hungry,” he blurted out. He cocked his brows at me. “Are you hungry?”

It took me a moment after the abrupt subject change to get my wits about me to respond. “Yeah.” Considering it was almost seven, it had been a long time since my lunch in the Jefferson’s restaurant. Even then, my stomach had been tied in such anxious knots that I’d ended up mostly pushing my salad around rather than eating it.

“Let’s go grab some dinner.”

“Can we do that?”

Barrett laughed. “I don’t think they intend for us to starve during this hokey get-to-know you bullshit.”

“I just assumed they meant for us to eat here in the hotel restaurant. You know, on the premises.”

“It’s not like they put ankle monitors on us.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

Cocking his head at me, Barrett said, “I wouldn’t have taken you for someone afraid to break the rules.”

“I’m not.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here and get something to eat.”

“Fine.” I glanced down at my yoga pants and Duke sweatshirt. “I would need to change.”

“I say we go somewhere low-key without a dress code. I’m not a big fan of highbrow shit.”

“You’re not?”

With a smirk, Barrett replied, “Surprising, isn’t it?”

“A little. I guess I just imagined you sitting around eating caviar and drinking Cristal.”

“Caviar is fucking disgusting, and while Cristal is good, I’m not a big champagne fan. Makes me burp.”

I snorted. “Yeah, me too—on the champagne. I’ve never had caviar before.”

“Trust me, you’re not missing anything. It doesn’t taste good, and it makes this gross popping noise in your mouth.”

“Ew.”

“There’s a great Italian place on the corner. Do you like Italian food?”

“Adore it.”

Barrett grinned. “I’ll be damned, we just agreed on two things.”

“Cue the halleluiah chorus, it must be a miracle,” I quipped.

After shooting off a quick text and grabbing the room key, Barrett jerked his thumb at the door. “We better hurry before the moment passes.” A mischievous glint burned in his eyes. “Race you to the elevator?”

“You’re on.”

With a squeal, I pushed past him and threw open the door. Just as I was about to dart out into the hallway, I slammed into a wall of flesh. “Oof.”

Removing my face from the man’s rock-hard chest, I gazed up into a gorgeous face. “Oh my,” I murmured. As I continued staring at him, my nipples had the audacity to harden. I knew the reason for my extreme horniness came from Barrett getting my motor running moments earlier—the guy could have been Shrek and I still would have wanted to climb him.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” a heavy British accent questioned.

“I, uh, yeah, I-I’m fine,” I stammered.

Barrett snickered behind you. “I think she’s more shell-shocked from the way you look than because of the fact that she smacked into you, Ty.”

Embarrassment singed my cheeks at Barrett’s words. “That’s not it at all,” I argued feebly.