Page 152 of Boiling Point

His mouth curved—more sin than smile. “Grammar drills or oral exams?”

I leaned in and kissed him. “Yes.”

The look he gave me wasn’t a smirk or a smile—it was pure intent, slow and simmering, like he already had me back in our bed.

A low hum lit under my skin—an electric ripple down my spine, blooming behind my ribs and radiating out. God, this man. I’d never get used to the way he could melt me.

I dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip, just enough to make his eyes track. “I’ll try not to abuse my power.”

He brushed a knuckle down my arm. “I rather wish you would.” He raised his glass. “To the future, then. Our personal renaissance.”

I grinned and tapped my glass to his. “To us.”