Though as quick as that hope came, it fades when his hands reach for the waistline of my leggings as he begins dragging the material down my legs. I pinch my thighs together, attempting to scoot away from him. “What are you doing?” His eyes flick up to me in irritation; the former adoring look long forgotten. “You reek of them. You need a bath.” I pull away from his grasp, doing my best to keep my tone even. “If you just undo my hands, I can get undressed. I’m kind of shy,” I say with a weak smile.
