Twelve
Bryn leaned back with a sigh, holding Dewey off with one hand. With much kissing and some embarrassing giggling, they’d managed to make their way to his apartment. Each kiss was deeper and more mind spinning than the last. As fun as it was to be necking with someone on a couch, they had some air to clear before it went any further. “Sit over there. I can’t think when you’re this close.”
His lazy, satisfied smile took her breath away and undermined her resolve to get back to work. If he’d pressed the issue—but he didn’t. He also didn’t move across the room. Instead, he drew in his body until the width of one couch cushion separated them. He ran both hands through his hair, adding to the disarray her hands had done, and took a deep breath. She trembled when she saw him shudder, feel
