Page 48 of Body Check

“Or what?” My voice is rough as sandpaper, and I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs.

“Or this stops.”

Amelia backs up a few steps, her movements graceful, and she picks up her phone. In short order, she connects to the speaker, a soft jazz tune playing throughout the room.

Her fingers trail down her torso, drawing my gaze to her delicious curves. She’s wearing a simple v-neck sweater and dark jeans, the denim clinging to her hips and ass. Her body sways to the music as she lifts the hem of her sweater a few inches.

“Yes. Take it off.”

Dark eyes flashing, she does as I ask, the dark blue fabric landing in a heap behind her. Underneath, she’s wearing a simple tank top, the soft pink straps of her bra visible beneath. I wonder if it’s the same lacy pink one I saw in her hotel room.

My cock twitches at the memory of waking up beside her, her warm body cocooning mine. I felt safe in a way I never experienced before. Despite being disoriented and hungover, I never once worried about someone finding out or, worse, doing something I can’t take back with the wrong person. Because with her, I’m safe.

Her tank top goes next, landing on the floor beside her sweater. The lacy, light pink bra does a miraculous job showcasing her full breasts. Her fingertips trace along the cup of the bra, drawing my eyes, and as all remaining blood in my brain rushes south, she pulls her hand away.

Amelia pops the buttons on her jeans, slowly peeling them off her hips. My hands curl into fists on my thighs, desperately wanting to touch. Her. Myself. Both. I don’t know.

Stepping out of her jeans, she twists, and I catch a glimpse of her ass, encased in black cotton panties. With her back to me, her arms stretch above her head, highlighting the length of her spine.

A groan escapes my lips. I’m sweating, my heart pounding. This is simultaneously the best and worst night of my life. Best, because it’s with her. Worst, because I can’t fucking touch her.

Her hands move to the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to the floor, and then she steps out of her panties. The curve of her bare ass is right fucking there, and I can’t do anything about it.

Turning to face me again, I get my first glance of Amelia up close and personal. My mouth goes dry, and I’m fairly certain my eyes bug out.

“You like what you see?” she asks, playing with her hair.

“I’m not sure.”

Her confident smile fades.

“Come here. I need a closer look.”

She steps toward me, her hand landing on my bare shoulder, and she climbs onto my lap.

“Mm. Much better,” I say, before threading my hand through her ponytail. Gripping the strands, I pull her closer, and as our mouths collide again, all is right with the world.