She pulls back from the kiss again.
I wrap my arm around her neck and slowly lift us both from where we are sitting.
Standing, facing her, I cup her face and press my lips against hers.
She parts her lips and I part mine.
And suddenly the heat becomes unbearable.
I feel her body trembling.
My pulse, quickening.
I lift her up and she swings her legs around my hips.
I carry her to the hallway, pinning her between myself and the bedroom door.
She pulls back again, gently, and stares at me.
She pulls herself out of my arms, turns around and opens the door, blindly reaching for my hand and pulling me inside.
That night, she wasn't just Kate Beckett.
She was mine.