His palm slyly disappears under my robust, tulle skirt. The better to hide my boyfriend’s hand with. I smooth my lips together and try to subdue my shallow breathing. His warm hand tracks hot lines up my thigh. Thatcher kisses the nape of my neck before whispering, “Okay?” “Yes.” Oh my God, yes. If I blink three times, I feel like this raw, sexual, warrior of a man will disappear in a poof, and I’m wide-eyed and too eager. Banks… is staring right at me. He nearly laughs. Am I panting? Am I childishly head-over-heels? My face is on fire. “I like your brother,” I state outright. “Right on.” He
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