“Does this feel platonic to you?” I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as his hand trailed up my arm and over the bare curve of my shoulder. I burned everywhere he touched, my skin nothing more than a map of little fires that consumed whatever oxygen was left in my lungs. Every muscle was strung tighter than a bowstring. When his palm reached the nape of my neck, my body instinctively arched, just enough to make his eyes flare with heat.
