The ceremony hadn’t even started yet, but Stefan’s hand was already on your lower back, his thumb brushing over the zipper of your dress like he was itching to ruin it.

“Stefan,” you warned under your breath, keeping a tight smile as someone passed you on the way to the champagne table. “This is our friend’s wedding.”

“And?” he murmured, leaning in close, lips grazing your ear. “You look like that in that dress and expect me to behave?”

You turned slightly, your eyes catching his — dark with hunger, but playful. He was in a sharp black suit, white shirt slightly unbuttoned, and no tie. That smirk on his face was deadly. You’d been teasing each other since you walked in, but now the tension was unbearable.