7 paragraphs from Zane's Art:
He caressed his hand over her cheek, as he leaned across the seat toward her, leaving no question about his intention. His lips touched hers, sweetly, the merest brush of warm soft lips, like she was a canvas he was going to paint.
His mouth was a wonder she couldn’t back away from. She leaned into him, needing more, needing to show him she was his partner in this masterpiece he was creating. She bit lightly on his lip.
His hand slid up her cheek, his fingers combing through her hair and massaging her scalp. He delved his tongue into her mouth. She shifted, desperately wanting to move closer to him.
A car horn blared, and she straightened immediately. She looked around, but the parking lot was empty.
“I believe that was you,” Zane said, with a pointed look at her elbow resting against the steering wheel. His damp, flushed lips curved in amusement.
“Oh.” She turned to face forward and pulled her seatbelt, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much her hands were shaking. Putting that kiss behind her was absolutely impossible as long as he sat next to her.
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