I’ve upset him. I’ve made him agitated. But I want to smooth out his rough edges now. Under his burning gaze, I drop the towels I’ve been clutching onto the bed by my side and step closer to him so I can touch him. With my chest. My breasts press into his ribs and a sigh of relief goes through me. Even though the front of my uniform is kind of damp from holding on to the towels, the wetness of his chest still seeps into the fabric, beading my nipples. It’s remnants of his shower and the heat of this town. Heat of us being together. His pecs move with a long breath and I breathe with him.
