“We’re good at this,” he said, a single finger running from the inside of my elbow to my wrist, showing me what he meant by this as waves of pleasure sang through me. “So good,” I agreed. “We need to make sure we’re good at not this.” “That sounds like a terrible plan,” I said. Aside from today, we’d only hung out two times in real life. The first time was catastrophic and the second time, in the end, not much better. “You want to keep trying?” “I want to throw you on this table and taste every inch of you.” “Okay.” He chuckled. “And god, I want that feeling in a relationship. It’s been awhile
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