“Matt …?” I swallow, my tongue heavy.
The figure shakes his head, and I whimper. Why do I believe it’s not him? And why don’t I care? “I’m sorry …” I lick my numb lips. “I shouldn’t have … I’ll leave.” I stumble over my words as I go to walk around him.
But his hand comes out, wrapping around my waist and pulling my back to the front of his body. My breath rushes out of my lungs. “I’d rather you not,” he whispers roughly into my ear.
I try to think if I’ve heard his voice before, but the song “Killing Me Slowly” by Bad Wolves is too loud, and my mind is foggy.
A chill runs up my back, making me shiver. Without permission, his free hand yanks my shirt up, and then his warm hand lands on my stomach. My heart races when his hand starts making its way up my rib cage and to my bra.
I swall
