Erika's Point of View
In my struggle to get his hands out, I hear the crisp tearing sound of fabric.
I guess it was my shirt.
Shit.
I feel the now-torn fabric of my shirt slide down my shoulders, baring more skin for Andrew. I feel him run his nose against my shoulder blades, leaving a trail of sparks and pleasure behind as the fabric continues to slide lower and lower.
I panic when the whole fabric slips off my body and the cool air hits my now exposed 'mountains'. I still feel his hands resting just beneath them as he continues to assault my neck.
This time, I gently place my hands on his and try to pry myself from his hold. Since the damage is already done, I can't help but wonder how I am going to get out of his room, shirtless and without him seeing any of my 'prized possessions
