When no one was looking, I walked behind the stage curtains, plopped my ass down in the middle of the floor, lay back, and let the vibrations of the DJ’s music lull me and the darkness wrap around me like a comforting hug.

“Nothing, Cohen. Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” he pushes.

“Are you scared?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows to look at him.

He turns his head but doesn’t speak.

Given this opportunity to take him in, I don’t waste a second. His dark eyes are looking directly into mine. Searching for what, I’m not sure, but one thing I’m certain of is that he isn’t looking at me like a man who has a girlfriend should. Or whatever she is. His hair is freshly buzzed along the sides and slightly longer on the top, which makes me wonder who cut it for him since I know I didn’t. He usually keeps it a little longer, perfect for all the times I’ve imagined running my fingers through it when I’m not in the middle of cutting it. The light beard he was sporting all year is gone, which allows his strong jaw to show. I love it when he shaves, but I also love the look of his beard. Every time he swallows, his jaw flexes in this sexy way I’ve never been able to control lusting over. Jaw porn. With Cohen, it’s a very real thing.

I am staring at his lush, full lips when I realize I have been basically lusting over his face since he sat down. Shit.

When my eyes meet his, I expect to see humor at busting me, but all I see is the mirrored hunger I know is dancing behind my green eyes. His are heated, a deep fire blazing behind them. He isn’t even attempting to hide his desire for me.

I hold my breath, waiting while the world stops spinning around me, and I go for it. Clearly, he’s taken off guard when I all but leap off the stage flooring and into his lap. My legs fall on either side of his hips, my hands dive into that freshly cut hair—enjoying the prickle of the buzz against my palms—and my lips are on him before he has a second to figure out what my intentions are. He’s solid and unmoving. If it weren’t for his strong hands holding my hips in place, I probably would have gotten up and run away.

Pulling my lips off his motionless ones, I look into his shocked eyes and feel a heated blush of embarrassment wash over me.

“Oh my God. I’m . . . I . . . I shouldn’t have done that.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t let go of my hips when I try to move off him. It takes me a second for the reality to hit me—I’m sitting in the shadows, straddling a very shocked Cohen Cage.

Holy crap. Okay, so maybe I really was reading too much into the last couple of weeks.

“I . . . I don’t even know what to say. I’m sor—”

My apology never leaves my lips, because in a split second, his hands tighten, pulling me harder against his body, and his thick lips crash down on mine. The feel of him, the reality of a kiss I’ve dreamt of since I was old enough to crave it, is so overwhelmingly perfect that I feel it all the way to my soul.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” I gasp against his lips, knowing that I don’t mean a word of it. If he stops, I just might die.

“Can’t stop, Dani-girl. Now that I finally know what you taste like . . . I can’t stop,” he moans when I shift my weight against his lap.

I can feel the truth in his words against my core, and I can’t stop myself from rotating my hips against his hardened length.

“Jesus. I knew you would make me come undone.”

His lips are back on mine. Caressing, lightly nipping between his teeth, before his tongue slides along the seam and demands access to my mouth. Our tongues dance together, almost as if they were made for each other. My breaths dance with his in a heated tango.

It.

Is.

Glorious.

“Your girlfriend,” I pant, trying to pull back but knowing it will be impossible to let this go.

“Not my girlfriend.”

I pull back and look into his hooded eyes, “She came with you, Cohen.”

“She isn’t with me. She came because she is the widow of one of the men from my unit, Dani-girl. She is here because she has no one else and she’s had a hard time recently. But she isn’t who I want in my arms. Good lord, woman. Shut up and kiss me.”

Well, alrighty, then.

When I still don’t move, his hands slide up my sides. His thumbs brush over the sides of my breasts, causing my nipples to harden painfully, before his hands cup my face. His fingers go into my hair, his thumbs lightly caressing my cheeks, while he studies my face. I have no idea what he sees there, but it must be enough, because seconds later, he pulls my face to his and devours my lips.