"Tell me about Princeton town?" I softly wondered.
"The weather is definitely the opposite of here." He stated it as a fact.
While I asked him questions and listened to his replies, I remained fascinated by our interweaved fingers and receptive to his hand buried in my oversized shirt. Every time his free hand skids idly around my stomach and stop by my abdomen that he claimed to have piqued him, my eyes flutters, and my heart skips a beat, for he has abducted me under his mesmerising touch and the abyss of his crisp billowy masculine scent. "But there are beaches at a reachable distance." He sounded euphonic.
"True oceans," I repeated, almost inaudible while trying to imagine myself there but ended up gasping at the tenderness of his touch against the curves of my ribs.
"The people a
