Chapter Twelve

Soon she was feeling for his slacks, the button and zipper, working his pants open until they fell to his ankles. His thighs and hips felt hard against her, and she reached for the hem of his sweater next, as he undid her shorts, urging them down. All the while their kissing became a series of quick, urgent pecks between their efforts to strip down.

He helped her tee shirt up and over her head and drank in the sight of her when it hit the floor. Her bra was black and basic and her panties matched, but soon he freed her, unfastening the hook and eye at her back and peeling the cups away.

A hot rush of excitement surged through her when his hands squeezed her breasts then stroked down her stomach, tracing the soft curve of her body. She was tracing him, as well, feeling his arms, his muscles, as she brushed him, shoulder to wrist.

“I want to spend hours with you,” he groaned. “Take my time.”

She smiled and let out a breathy laugh, eyeing his boxer-briefs, the way they hugged his bulge,