“I feel like I owe you.” “Owe me what?” His voice is smooth and velvety tonight, and it brushes up against my skin. It soothes me. “Sex, or something.” “Or something? Now that part has me interested. What is the ‘or something’?” He cracks the joke, not realizing the way my mind can take it, spin it, and twist into something he never meant for it to be. Like he wouldn’t want the sex.
