much I loved kissing him. His hand rode higher beneath my skirt while letting me slowly slide back to the ground. But even once my feet landed on the floor, it still felt like I was floating. Our kisses grew lighter, less frenzied. Instead, we exchanged rough gasps and continual brushes of lips against lips like we wouldn’t survive if we separated completely. “Juniper.” He spoke my name between us, sounding gravelly, desperate. “I’m going to touch you. I need to touch you.”
