Anything you want, it’s yours.” He takes a step toward me, placing his hands on my hips, and I shiver at the contact. “I want to leave.” “Anything but that,” he says with a dark chuckle, pulling me into this chest. He presses a kiss to my forehead and it’s so strangely domestic and intimate that my natural response is to melt into him. His t-shirt is soft against my cheek, and his chest is warm and hard. His arms tighten around me as he sighs into my hair. This should not be comforting. But it is.
