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“His arms tighten around me slightly, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s still sitting on his tall barstool, and I’m standing between his legs. Our bodies are fitted together so tightly I can feel every rise and fall of his chest like the rolling waves of an ocean. His thumb strokes the dip of my waist—a small, seemingly unconscious gesture—and my heartbeat accelerates like a rocket. What am I doing?” — Angie Hockman
His arms tighten around me slightly, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s still sitting on his tall barstool, and I’m standing between his legs. Our bodies are fitted together so tightly I can feel every rise and fall of his chest like the rolling waves of an ocean. His thumb strokes the dip of my waist—a small, seemingly unconscious gesture—and my heartbeat accelerates like a rocket.
What am I doing?