I turn toward him, and he picks up my hand and puts it onto his bare chest. It’s hot and hard under my touch. He rests his lips on my temple, and I close my eyes. God, this is wrong. Unable to stop myself, I slowly slide my hand over his torso, over the ripples, down lower to the small trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his pants. His dark eyes hold mine. Tell me to stop.
