Page 69 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

I reach for the zipper.

A long, lean back is revealed in slow inches. I’ve seen precious little of this part of her.

As the dress separates, I take in the pale expanse of her skin, the smooth transition from neck to shoulders. The gentle ridges of her spine.

I reach out to touch them, my fingers bumping down until they reach the hook of her bra. Displeased with the interruption of my path, I quickly release it and continue the journey down.

The zipper ends below her waist, but there’s nothing else there.

That’s right. She left her panties beneath the bleachers at the festival. My anger flares at how that boy mishandled someone so exquisite.

Kelsey is perfect.

She sighs as my hands continue moving across her back, like I did before, but now on her naked skin. I forget her question. I don’t think about the wisdom of this choice, or the spotty logic of her request.

I don’t know how far I’ll take it or if it’ll even make sense.

In this moment, there’s only her skin, warm and unbroken, and new.

I scoot closer, sliding the dress off her shoulders, so I can see all of her back. The fabric falls to her waist, and I continue my exploration.

My thumbs press into the creases on either side of her spine, eliciting a groan of pleasure from Kelsey.

The sound hits my gut, spreading heat through me.

We haven’t done anything yet. We can stop here. A friendly back rub between friends.

And yet, I don’t stop. I move closer, increasing my pressure, my hands massaging the tension from her muscles.

I shift her hair to one side, and the tempting skin of her neck is right there, soft and warm. I press my lips to it.

Her breath catches. I make a line of kisses along her bare shoulder. I want to touch all of her.

There’s a point of no return, and I’m about to streak by it.

My hands continue their journey around the sides of her waist and to the front. I slip beneath her arms and flatten my palms across her belly.

Another checkpoint. Another gate.

I lean close to her ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she breathes. “Very good.”

Her voice is silken, and her words speak straight to my groin. I know what to say. I’m deep in my role.

“I’m going to hold your naked breasts in my hands. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

I take my time, sliding up her ribs, feeling her catch her breath and hold it in anticipation. Then she’s in my hands, heavy and warm.

Her head falls back on my shoulder. I can see her, exposed to me, those beautiful parts of her that have been off limits.

Now mine.

I’m doing this, to her.

She has said just one time, so I will not rush. I take in every detail, the blush across her chest. The deep swell as I press this softness high. The tight, deep-pink nipples.

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