His breathing hitched when her fingers started roaming his chest slowly, tracing every line of muscle and his n*****s through his shirt. Her fingers curled as they moved down so her nails skimmed over his abdominals, which contracted under her touch.
His breathing went even more ragged when those nails skimmed across the skin above the waistband of his jeans where his shirt ended. "Is that what you didn't want to tell me a few minutes ago?"
Biting her lip, she shook her head. He loved that she did that. And he knew why. It was visible evidence that she was turned on. Sure, he could scent her, but seeing and smelling are two different things.
"Then what?" he asked darkly. "You can tell me, Allison. I'm already yours and staying that way. There's nothing you can say that'll freak me out.
