lips shaped themselves around his. Slowly this time, he rolled till he hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel the cool marble of his body press against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that it was hard to hear his quiet laughter. “That’s debatable,” he disagreed. “This would be difficult on a couch.” Cold as ice, his tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips. My head was spinning—the air was coming too fast and shallow. “Did you change your mind?” I asked breathlessly. Maybe he’d rethought all his careful rules. Maybe there was
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