Juliet is a hurricane sweeping toward me, violet eyes flashing, blonde tendrils coming loose from their careful twist. She’s a tsunami, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I’m not even sure that I want to. This angry, she is a sight to behold.

At the last moment, I straighten my back, bracing for impact. It’s like she’s going to tear right through me—me, the Town Car, and the rest of the city.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she shouts, the rage evident in her voice. “And what the hell were you thinking?”

She’s so close to me now that every breath I inhale is filled with her. The wrath of her energy is vibrating over my skin, as strong as the aftershocks of an earthquake that could bring down half the city. Her breasts are rising and falling with every breath, her knuckles white where she’s clutching her bag, and my cock strains against the fabric of my boxers. My heart beats once in my chest, a loud thud that seems to echo across the block, and then everything speeds up.

The heat radiating between us is a thousand times hotter than the humid air, and it’s through that heat that I lean forward. I can’t help myself. It’s a violent kind of beauty and it draws me in, pulling me with a force stronger than gravity.

My lips meet hers with a crash, my heart leaping in my chest, and it’s as if Juliet has thrown herself into the epicenter of the quake. Instead of jerking back, she presses against me with a ferocity that’s as inexplicable as her anger. I raise my hands to grasp her body, sinking deeper into this shameless kiss. I pull her tightly against me, her curves like an ocean that sweeps over me, engulfing me completely. Her bag drops to the concrete sidewalk with a little jingle—her keys—and her hands are crossed over the back of my neck, gripping me so tightly that I couldn’t get away if I wanted to. 

I don’t want to.

All of Brooklyn fades away into the vortex of her. I don’t feel the tendrils of the air conditioning curling out of the back door of the Town Car anymore. I don’t feel anything except her body moving in time with me underneath the sleeveless silk blouse she’s wearing, her muscles tensing as we meld together. It’s something between a battle and a kind of passion I’ve never felt with another woman. Not once. Not ever.

I trail my hands down her back and delve into her mouth with my tongue. She’s minty and sweet, and I drink in the taste of her, our tongues dueling and dancing together. She threads her fingers through my hair, still holding on tight, still in control. Fifteen seconds ago she seemed ready to kill me, or at least ready to stalk down the street and back out of my life forever, but she’s still not hurting me—she’s still being careful, not biting down on my lip too hard—though she could.

This woman is incredible. 

My cock is so hard against her that it’s painful. I want to pull her into the car and capture this wild energy in my arms, let her straddle me and keep doing whatever this is, but I’m so caught up in this moment that I can’t move, except to pull her closer in. 

She’s kissing me back with such intensity that my lips feel bruised, but I don’t care. I’m going to ride this out until the bitter end.

The bitter end comes.

Like a storm that’s depleted the last of its raindrops, Juliet pulls back, breathing hard, her eyes latched on mine in shock and her hair tousled. She doesn’t glance up and down the street to see who might have seen us, but her cheeks are red, flushed with everything that happened between us…and more, I suspect. Her lips drop open, and she raises her fingertips to touch them, gently. Next, her hands flutter to her hair, smoothing the escaped tendrils back into place, deftly adjusting the clip holding it all together.

She straightens her posture, the silence growing tense and hot.

I wouldn’t mind if it ended in another kiss like that.

I don’t think any other kiss on the planet could possibly compare.

“I’ll accept that as a thank you.” The words roll off my tongue before I can stop them. It’s a miracle I manage to put a sentence together at all, given the electricity that’s arcing through my entire body, sending wave after wave of goosebumps down my spine and arms, and given the massive erection I’m currently trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

Juliet’s eyes narrow. Now I’ve done it. I’ve said the one thing that will make her explode in a white-hot burst of flame right here on the sidewalk in front of me, and this will be all over before it even starts.

So the burst of laughter that escapes her throat takes me completely by surprise.

Juliet laughs so hard that tears come to her eyes. She laughs so hard that she doubles over, hands pressed against her stomach. She laughs so hard that it leaps across the air between us and makes me laugh through the bewilderment flooding my brain. I don’t know what’s funny. I don’t need to know. The fact that Juliet knows is enough.

Finally, she straightens up, wiping at her eyes, blinking upward, and when she meets my eyes again, she stands tall. It takes a few more deep breaths to get herself under control. “All right, Weston Grant. First things first.”

“I think that was the first thing.”

“First things first—I’m going to pay you back for what you did in there.”

“Sounds ominous.”

She lets out another laugh. “Every single cent. There’s no way I’m letting you pay for all that. So we need to work out some…terms.”

That sounds like something I can get behind. “I’d love to work out some terms with you.”

Juliet waggles a finger at me. “Not those kinds of terms. Monetary terms.”

I step closer to her again and reach up to tuck one final strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re going to ignore that kiss, then?”

Her voice turns soft, and I can tell she’s holding her head stiffly upright to keep herself from leaning into my touch. “I think we have to. For both our sakes.”

“Do you know what, Juliet James?”

“What?”

“I think it’s far too late for that.”