Chapter Fifteen
Mark slid his hand down her back as he sat on the sofa. She was straddling his lap, kissing him, feeling those warm lips, his hands sliding under her shirt and over her skin as she was pressed into his solid chest. She slid her hand over his face, feeling the scrape of whiskers, the same that burned her face now, and her other hand slid into his hair, the short unruly waves. She felt the strength of his solid thighs, melting into his touch, when his hand suddenly slid over her arm and he pulled her back abruptly.
“Okay, stop,” he said.
Was he serious?
He was standing up, juggling her awkwardly, and she slid all the way down him, feeling every hard, uncomfortable inch. She swept back her hair, and his expression had the knot only twisting tighter in her stomach as she st
