“You grew up nice, Wick,” Jamie said, taking a step back. Her hand drifted down his chest to the top of his jeans. Eyes wide with delight she dangled her fingers by his zipper With tantalizing deliberateness she touched the fabric.
“You keep that up, I can’t be held responsible…” he whispered.
“You keep that up, I can’t be, either,” she replied.
© 2015 Dellani Oakes