*Claire*

He just shook his head, smiling as he continued washing our dishes from dinner. When the last piece of cutlery was dried and put aside, he stepped in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs and around my waist. “I like it when you’re eye level,” he said, brushing my hair back from my face.

I put my hands on his strong, muscular shoulders. My hands roaming down his arms, feeling his muscles under his shirt. He had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his ...