I force myself to stay focused on the curves of her waist and the way I can see the imprint of her bra from beneath her shirt instead. It’s a fucking great distraction, and that in itself is a bit alarming. It’s probably creepy to get hard from staring at someone’s bra strap, and I’m already halfway there. As if sensing where my mind’s wandered, Garrison slaps me on the back. The pain from the hit shakes me from my thoughts. His laugh is low and gruff. “Fuck me. You’re screwed.” “You’re just learning that now?”
