"Of course, Senator Harris. I'm ready for anything you put on me." Kamala's eyebrow arches, and I realize too late how that might sound. My cheeks burn, and I fight the urge to fan myself. "Good," she says, her tone rich with amusement and something darker. "Because I plan on working you very hard when we get back to the office." The car slows to a stop, and I realize we've arrived at my apartment building. As I gather my things, my hands trembling slightly, Kamala's final words follow me out of the car: "Rest up this weekend. You're going to need it."

A forbidden attraction. A dangerous game. A line they should never cross. Katalina Morales wasn't looking for trouble when she walked into a Georgetown bar the night before her second semester started. But trouble had a way of finding her-this time in the form of a stunning, older woman with whiskey lips and a gaze that made her weak in the knees. A kiss, a tease, a game played between strangers. No names. No strings. Just heat. But when Kat stumbles into her Political Science class the next morning, hungover and late, she freezes. Because standing at the front of the lecture hall-poised, commanding, utterly composed-is Professor Kamala Harris. Her professor. Her one-night Kiss. Now, they're trapped in a game far more dangerous than the one they played at the bar. A game of restraint, of power, of knowing exactly what they want-but never being able to have it. Kat isn't the type to back down from a challenge. And Kamala? Kamala isn't the type to lose control. But the rules have already been broken. And soon? Neither of them will be able to stop.