Something inside me stuttered: my heart skipped a beat, or my breath caught with a sudden, full-body kick of tension. My muscles were wires, and every place where our skin touched wound me tighter. He’d taken off his shirt and jeans at some point, and I splayed my fingers, half touching the fabric of his boxers, half touching his naked skin. I was scared to even breathe, afraid the incremental space between our bodies would spark off with the charge I felt between us.
