“Yes,” I say, nodding, letting my fingers loose from their death grip on the chair.
She runs her fingers over my back again, firmer this time. She squeezes my shoulder, and my whole body turns to stone. “Dex,” she whispers in the other ear. “It’s just me.”
Alessa. It’s just Alessa.
I force myself to relax, and she squeezes my shoulder again; this time, I don’t tense up as bad. I think of her smell, her touch.
Every time I tense up, she reminds me of where I am.
She squeezes both shoulders before she slides her hands to my biceps, down my pecs, and my abs, still never touching my skin. She does this until I only react in a good way, leaning into her touch. I find myself trying to follow her hands wherever they go.
“Are you ready for the next step?” she whispers again, and it’s starti
