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Whoa. Where is the John Stratton of my youth?
The man at her door was completely at odds with the memory of a high school rebel in biker boots and skull jacket. Now, standing before her was a ruggedly handsome stranger, clad in a black, fitted leather jacket and dark jeans, that made her want to salivate.
"Dane," he let out in a husky voice. John's expression changed from surprise to anger to something she couldn't decipher before he took one quick step forward, cupped her face in his palms and planted a kiss on her that made her feel like the Greenhouse Effect had zeroed in on them. Heat spread through her body, fanned by the flames of memories until they soared higher and higher, until she was swept away by the blistering sorrow of her past.
Swirls of emotion drowned out all thought and she was left breathless from that one explosive kiss.
This was not the reception she had imagined. Yet Dane couldn't help clinging onto him, unable to pull herself away. She melted into his arms like a love-struck teenager trying to hold onto the last shred of her youth. Even when he plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth, she only accepted it greedily, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and pulling him even closer. She wanted more. She wanted to forget the world around her and allow John to take her back to that time when nothing could touch them...