I nod, lips parted.
He lifts it slowly, and I shiver as the cool air hits my skin. My bra is navy lace, something I wore without thinking. Now, it feels like it matters.
His thumbs trail under the band as he kisses my collarbone. “You’re beautiful, Mandy. So fucking beautiful.”
I shiver. “You’ve seen girls half-naked before.”
“None of them were you.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
He kisses my shoulder and reaches for the clasp. He unhooks it slowly, letting it slide off my arms. I instinctively move to cover my chest.
“Hey.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Look at me.”
I do.
“You don’t have to hide. Not from me.”
I lower my arms slowly.
“You okay?”
“Just… nervous.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he says. “We can stop, cuddle, order pizza…”
“I want this,” I interrupt. “I just don’t want to get it wrong.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t. We make the rules.”
I lie back, heart pounding, eyes never leaving his.
He kicks off his shoes and climbs over me, bracing himself so he’s not too heavy.
I reach for the edge of his shirt. “Can I…?”
“Please.”
I finish unbuttoning his shirt I'd already started in the kitchen, and slide it off his shoulders, revealing his chest. There are scars, faint lines and pale marks from hockey hits.
I press a kiss to one near his ribs. “How’d you get this one?”
“Blocked a shot in St. Louis.”
I kiss another. “This one?”
“Stick to the shoulder. Got stitched mid-period.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
I smile. My hands explore slowly as I want to remember everything. Learn him.
I trail my fingers across his chest, slow and deliberate. “You always this tense when a girl’s got you half-naked?”
He nods, jaw tight. “You’re killing me.”