Zane's hands began to roam, tracing the curve of her waist, exploring her body with a familiarity that made Tahra's breath hitch. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, as if they were both trying to lose themselves in each other. For a brief, dizzying moment, Tahra felt like nothing else mattered—none of her worries, none of her problems. It was just them, in this stolen moment, where nothing else existed.
But reality came crashing back all too quickly. Tahra reluctantly broke the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to regain her composure. "Zane, we can't… not here," she protested, her voice a mix of longing and caution. She glanced around nervously, half expecting someone to stumble upon them at any moment. "Someone might show up."
