“I can see your pulse fluttering against the delicate skin of your throat, and your heart is beating rapidly beneath my fingers. You’re grabbing hold of my shirt with tight fists, balling up the material like you want to tear it clean of off me. Am I correct to assume that your panties are soaked through with your arousal as well?”
I gave him a sly, knowing grin. “I don’t know.You might need to take a closer look.”
―
Maureen Mayer,
Unforeseen Heartbeat