CHAPTER SEVEN
IT WAS ALMOST LIKE BEING IN A DREAM. There was no hurry and no sense of urgency. Ted's fingertips lingered over each change of contour in the slender form before him, exploring, caressing, promising and he let her lips move softly along his own. There was a periodic trembling in the flesh that he touched. Elsie shook, then calmed, then shook again. He visualized her lean lines and savored the knowledge that when he was ready he could lift the edge of her shift and draw it over her head to reveal those lines. He tingled with the thought that he wanted to prolong this time of waiting. And his hands continued to stroke and probe.
"Darling," she whispered, the word muffled against his lips. "Darling! Your hands feel like they're on fire!"
"Because they make you hot?" he asked.
