Maybe… Maybe I want him to touch me like that again. Maybe I want the night to end with us tangled together and fighting to catch our breaths. Maybe I want his hands and mouth on every inch of my skin until I’m begging him to give me what I need. I’d never tell him any of that, though. It doesn’t seem like I need to, anyway, because now he’s leaning down to brush his lips across my cheek, and suddenly, there’s a shortage of air in my lungs. He skims them along the soft skin, pressing a light, barely-there kiss just beneath my eye. I have to hold back a sound at the action. It’s embarrassing
...more
