I rolled my eyes and shoved him down. My hands were on his clothed chest. I immediately started working at the buttons. “I want this off.” He brushed my hands away quickly, like he wanted to keep the shirt between us or like he had something to hide. Then, his hands were back at my hips, telling me, “Heartbreaker, forget about my shirt. Can you move on me?” I bit my lip but kept my gaze on the buttons, focusing on that task instead of the big one. “I’ll move when I’m ready.”
