To be touched.
I want this man.
I step closer, trembling all over. But not a single doubt crosses my mind, because this is what I want.
Taking a breath, I answer him with a question. “What do I call you?”
A low sound rumbles from his chest. “I’ll tell you when I’m inside of you. Now strip.”
“St— W-what?”
Did he really just say that?
His shoulders roll back, like he’s fighting himself to not move. “Yeah, Sweet Girl, strip for me. Show me all of you.”
Every word out of his mouth hits me in the chest before gliding down, straight to my core.
This is what I want.
My fingers are unsteady, but the top button on my shirt finally pushes through, coming undone.
I’ve never let anyone see me naked. And I’ve certainly never stripped for an audience. I don’t know if he’s expecting me to move
