Cataglottism - Kissing with tongue.
She hates – hates, hates, hates – secrets. There was a reason she joined the Rising Tide and tried to unveil government conspiracies.
But she has to admit: this is kind of thrilling.
If anybody asks, there's nothing between her and Grant. Nope. Nothing at all. It would be against protocol, after all.
But the moment they are alone with no-one watching, he is pulling her into an empty room, the armory, or even the janitor's closet – whatever is the closest –, pushing her against the wall, and, her face in his hands, he is kissing her. Deep and slowly, running his tongue along her lips, seeking admittance, which she gives right away, welcoming him, burying her fingers in his hair, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, trying to melt into him…
Part of it is their natural chemistry – their undying, never lessening need to be with the other, the spark between them that is threatening to burn down galaxies –, part of it is the thrill of keeping it a secret.
Of course, neither of them is too good at keeping secrets these days.
They pull apart, flying from each other like frightened birds, the moment the door opens.
Bobbi stands on the threshold, taking in their guilty, caught-red-handed expressions, moving her gaze from Skye to Grant and then back, rolling her eyes.
"Honestly, guys," she says before either of them has a chance to speak, "it's like you're not even trying."
And then she takes half a step back and closes the door.
