But baby, you started this.” The hand on her hip tugged her closer, her inner thighs brushing against the smooth fabric pulled taut over his long legs.She tugged at the fingers on her hip, wriggling at the same time, desperate to escape. “And now I’m ending it.”“I’ll decide where it ends,” he said.
Then Ben’s mouth descended again and her thoughts, as fickle as tiny fish, swam out of her head. Gentle brushes of his lips turned into more insistent strokes of his mouth. Sexually frustrated widow or not, there was little doubt the man could kiss her into a melted puddle of goo.