“Fuck,” she mutters, teeth strumming her bottom lip as she glances away. “Yep. That’s the one.” My fingers hook under the side of her underwear and give a teasing tug that makes her breath hitch. I maintain the pressure, twisting the fabric and watching her tongue dart over her bottom lip hungrily. Should we be playing this game in a room full of wedding guests? We shouldn’t be playing this game at all.
