No sooner has Cassidy stepped through the door than Alana's hands and mouth are all over him.

And he reciprocates, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close against his body, bending his lean and lanky frame to wherever her lips want him most. He groans softly, an almost guttural growl, as her teeth scrape his skin. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he plants eager kisses there, his lips dragging over her pulsepoint.

Oh, she has all of his attention.