"Should we warm you up then?"
Max's words echoed in my head, but I couldn't focus on them. He's still drawing patterns on my bare legs with his fingers. The sparks that are shooting through my body are extremely hard to ignore, and I know that I am not doing a good job.
Is he doing this on purpose?
Max is still twirling a piece of my hair in his fingers, waiting for me to respond.
"I c-could g-go grab a c-coat."
Gods, I probably sounded like a fu.cking i***t.
Max smirked at me, and it went straight to my core.
"I don't think that'll be necessary." He told me.
Before I could ask what Max meant, he let go of my hair, and grabbed both of my legs. He lifted them enough so that he could spin in his chair to face me. Placing my legs on either side of him, he started rubbing my ankle
