I could feel the red staining my cheeks when he pulled me in close for a photo or he kissed my temple or he fitted one of those big hands around the curve of my hip and gave it a squeeze like he did that all the time—but with a whole lot less clothes. Every time his fingers traced the ball of my shoulder or followed the line of my dress across my back, more heat pooled low in my belly. Of course I was having naked feelings from some absent-minded petting—and a few kisses for the cameras that’d hit harder than any real kisses I’d ever received. The past few months had been lonely. I hadn’t
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