She curled into him at the way he ran his finger along her back and the teasing touches across her neck and the side of her face had her making a needy sound low in her throat. Deliberately now, she pressed against him, wanting more. Her hand caught the material of his shirt, catching it in a fist as she rose on her toes to press closer still.

She knew this, somehow. She knew these sensations that she could have sworn she'd never experienced before. She knew him. And it was to him, to this familiar stranger, that she willingly opened her mouth and invited him in.