She drops her bag and splays her hand on his chest, pushing him back against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt him. ...Okay, just a little.

With a low purr, she scents along the curve of his bared neck. His scent is heavy, musky, masculine, and underneath it all, there's the hot sweetness of his blood.

Tangling her fingers in his wild hair, she keeps his head at an angle. Cool lips and fangs trail over his warm skin--and she bites down. Blood fills her mouth, and she moans, pressing up against him.