“You need to move your hand,” I said, my voice weak. He moved the hand that was over mine on his chest. “No, the other one.” But instead of moving it, his fingers traced the tiniest circle imaginable. In fact, I may have imagined it but I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip, trying to concentrate on something else. He did it again and this time I know I didn’t imagine it. My breath hitched and I involuntarily jerked my hips against his leg. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” I said, echoing his earlier words. “Danger is relative now, don’t you think?” “Then don’t—oh,” I couldn’t help the full
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