Amelia's pulse was already racing. She managed a tiny nod. Stan leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She didn't. His lips met hers in a careful, closed-mouth press, soft, warm, almost tentative on her part.
Amelia held still, eyes fluttering shut, the simple contact sending a surprising shiver down her spine.
Then Stan took control.
His hand slid up to cup her jaw, thumb resting just beneath her cheekbone as he tilted her head the slightest degree.
His mouth moved against hers with quiet confidence, coaxing rather than demanding. When the tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips she hesitated for half a heartbeat, then opened for him.
The first slow slide of his tongue against hers pulled a soft, involuntary sound from the back of her throat.
