Lina's POV
His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, fingers spreading across the curve of my hip. "No," he agreed, his voice dropping an octave. "We don't."
I felt his thumb trace a slow circle over the fabric of my blouse, just above the waistband of my skirt. "But right now," he murmured, pulling me closer until I was half-draped across his chest, "I need to think about something else."
"Adrian, we just done—"
"I'm aware." His hand slid lower, palm flattening against the curve of my ass, squeezing gently. "But I've been flat on my back for two days with nothing but the memory of your scent to keep me company. And now you're here, pressed against me, smelling like rain and jasmine and everything I can't stop wanting."
My breath hitched. I felt his fingers find the hem of
