Noah's POV
I convince Logan to put me down once we get to his room—and he does, only to trap me in a kiss that steals every breath I've ever taken.
He presses me against the door like he's trying to sink into me, his hands firm at my waist, framing my body with his. His lips devour mine with that same desperate heat that's followed us since the day we found our way back to each other. Every time he kisses me, it's like he's trying to crawl inside my ribs and never leave. Like we could tear each other open and still not get close enough.
I grab his face and kiss him back just as hungrily, like I'm starving and he's the only thing that can fill me. Teeth and tongue , skin and spit. Again and again. I've never wanted anything the way I need him. Never needed anything the way I need him. Even when I hated him, I wanted him.
And now, I have him.
He pulls back, breath ragged, and presses his nose into the crook of my neck. He inhales deeply—obscene and greedy.
"You smell so good."
