“There is something we do need to talk about, though,” he said. “What’s that?” “Dinner, because I’m starving. And your BTS shirt.” “Leave my shirt alone.” He laughed. “No, I want it. You can keep the Purple Rain one. I want this one.” “You can’t have it.” “Yes, I can.” “No, you can’t. It’s mine.” “I’m pretty sure you’ll give it to me.” “Is that right?” He ran his hands down my back and over my arse, and he rolled his hips, grinding against me. “Yeah.”
