Daphne
I’ve always heard the expression playing with fire, but I didn’t know the true meaning until that moment. The smoke was there in his dark eyes, and the flame was in his touch. His fingers that spread across my butt cheek felt like molten lava through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. The sensation that previously felt calming and peaceful had a very different vibration to it.
“Who’s t-shirt is this?” he growled, pulling at the hem.
Was Nate jealous? It didn’t seem possible that I could evoke possessive feelings in a man I had only just met. But, I decided to put his mind to rest. “It was an old t-shirt that belonged to my brother,” I admitted.
Nate grunted, and then, without any warning, he stood up, and pulled it unceremoniously over my head. He wadded it up and sent it fly
