My hands explored her chest, down her ribs, settling in the perfect dips at her hips, and rocked her gently. Even that slow, barely-there movement made my breath catch in my throat. The accompanying grunt got her attention. “You didn’t kiss me the other day,” she mumbled, moving herself back and forth against me without my timid guidance. “On our date.” I slowed her down, sliding my hands underneath her button-up pajama shirt and squeezing gently. She needed to take it easy on me. “I’m kissing you now.” “Were you trying to be a gentleman?”
