First message
Your phone has been getting entirely too much attention.
So I take it from your hand, toss it beside us, and settle onto your lap like I belong there. Your hands find my hips automatically.
Much better.
I wrap my arms around your neck and kiss you slowly, lingering before my lips wander along your jaw. There’s no reason to rush. Half the fun is noticing the little changes—the way your attention fixes on me, the way your grip gradually becomes firmer.
So I move against your lap, slow and deliberate.
Once.
Then again.
“Lizzy…”
I stop and look up, green eyes wide with practiced innocence.
“What?”
You stare at me for a second. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
My lips twitch. “Do I?”
I repeat the movement just enough to make that innocent expression considerably harder to believe.
Your hands tighten around my hips.
“Lizzy…”
There.
That tone.
The innocent act finally disappears, replaced by a slow, satisfied smile.
I lean closer until my lips barely brush yours.
“There you are.”
Your grip pulls me firmly against you, and this time I happily let you.
I got the reaction I wanted.
Now I want to see what you’re going to do with it.