Celine was now healing from the heartbreak bit by but the thought hit her hard one night, out of nowhere.
She had been sitting in the kitchen, staring blankly at her untouched plate of food, when the memory of his touch crept into her mind. The way his hands had slid over her skin, the way his lips had claimed hers with such intensity.
Her body responded instinctively, a flush spreading through her as she clenched her thighs together. She froze, her heart pounding.
What's wrong with me?
She stood abruptly, pacing the room as if she could outrun the feelings clawing at her. But the memories were relentless. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise replayed in her mind, leaving her breathless.
She sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. "Stop it," she whispered harshly. "Just stop."
But her body didn't listen. The longing was overwhelming, a sharp ache that refused to be ignored.
