Feeling him hold back like that makes me want to shake him loose, so I pull away and slide down, my entire body on fire, my skin so sensitive that the touch of my clothing feels painful. I catch the grey waistband of Ransom's sweats and start to tug them down. He stops me with a hand on his waistband. “Wait,” he whispers, voice still delicious and decadent, but laced with need. “There are scars all over me, down there, too.”
