“Brodie reached out a finger and traced the bow of my upper lip, his attention focused there. I couldn’t figure out if he was messing with me or as transfixed as he appeared. “This fucking mouth,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s either pissing me the fuck off…” He punctuated the words with a little tap of his finger. “…or annoying the fuck out of me…” His finger travelled with belly-twisting slowness to my bottom lip, where he centered it and rolled my lip the slightest amount down. Playing with it. Toying with me. I could feel my breath coming faster, and wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else that prompted the reaction. “And then there’s that,” he continued, his tone simultaneously musing and threatening.

I didn’t want to ask, but the devil on my shoulder forced the word out of me. “What?”

“Begging me to kiss the fuck out of you.”