Miles
Her manicured hand reached out, sliding smoothly over the denim of my thigh, tracing upward toward my knee before sliding onto my chest. Her touch was light, deliberate, trailing up over the broad line of my shoulders until her fingers twined into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me down toward her.
My body reacted instantly. It was pure, unadulterated biology, the lingering adrenaline of the night, and the suffocating, unsated tension that had been coiling in my gut ever since I held Thea on that grassy overlook.
My blood ran hot. My pulse hammered violently against my ribs, and the heavy length between my legs hardened against the thick denim of my pants.
All my restraint snapped.
Driven by a sudden, fierce urge to burn off the friction tearing through my veins, I grab
