“Third difference,” he whispered, leaning so close that I could feel his alcohol-scented breath on my face. “I’m not pressuring you to spread your legs for me.” Rearing back, he made a point of glancing between us. “You did that all by yourself.” My gaze followed his, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw that he had deftly stepped between my legs. Not only that, but my legs had wrapped themselves around his hips of their own damn accord. “Well, shit,” I whispered, breathing hard and fast as I watched him watch me. “I have no idea how they got there.”
