lips, her forward momentum rolls over him, pinning him against the arm of the
couch. She feels his shoulder relax under her hand, as though a long held
breath had been released. His eyes close, and his hips start to rock; she
straddles him.
Now she is the one holding her breath. Skin everywhere feels tingly as though
too long in the sun, knees, palms, the small of her back. When he reaches up
to put a hand on her breast, she catches his wrist, tucks it firmly behind
his back. He smiles. Oh yes, this will be fine, warm and all hers. She leans
forward, and starts to unbutton his shirt. "Mine," she whispers to him.
