“Why not?” I asked, and then I gasped, covering my mouth. He stared at me, blinking silently for way too long.
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean… Jesus… I sound like some desperate slut.”
His forehead creased. “Hey. Go easy on yourself. You’re definitely not that. I just. Look… it’s hard…”
I glanced at his lap, and then blushed. “Oh god. That wasn’t what you meant. I honestly shouldn’t be allowed around people.” I shoved up from the sofa, nearly sloshing coffee everywhere, and he moved. Faster than I’d have imagined possible.
He stopped my retreat, moving the coffee from my hand, before I dropped it… and then, there we were. Both of us half out of our seats, his hand gripping my wrist. Wow, his hands are huge.
He looked at his hand on me.
“Okay… this… this isn’t okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t touch you.”
“Don’t stop.” I whispered, my inner slut using my mouth now.