“Tim’s reserve waned as another emotion flooded him. He went to her, slowly caging her between his arms with his front bent over her from behind. When he heard her sigh and felt her sag against him, he gripped the edge of the countertop on either side of the stove, drifting his nose and lips along the side of her neck. . . . He placed a hand on her abdomen to settle her. And then he opened his mouth.
'Bevin, I’m yours for the lookin’, the touchin’, the whatever you want . . .'
–Tim Capshaw, TROLLING NIGHTS”
―
Savannah J. Frierson,
Trolling Nights
