"Shut up," Emilie growled lazily. Her hands searching blindly, desperately for bare skin, finally dipped under the hem of his shirt and back up again, her fingernails raking his skin the entire time.

Silently, she cursed herself. He of all people knew what she liked--it gave him the upper hand. And here she was playing into it. Disgusting. She pushed that idea from her mind as she tilted her head so as to shove her lips against his; a harsh, near-painful kiss. Not that there were many other kinds when it came to Emilie.