All I do is raise my hips, rubbing against his erection until his eyelids flutter with the prelude to surrender. And when my head pulls up from the bed to steal a kiss, catching his bottom lip between my teeth, his lust-laced groan is the sound of defeat. Brant dives into me, ripping my shirt over my head and fumbling for the button on my jean shorts. I squirm beneath him, wriggling free of the denim when he yanks the zipper down, and then I curl my fingers into the hemline of his shorts and tug them over his hips. His boxers follow, then my underwear, and we’re just a heap of desperate, shaky
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