*Daisy*
His forearm is as firm as a boulder, feeling as strong as it looks, with its ropy muscles and raised veins, resting along the back of the settee while his fingers have been stroking Chastity.
Even though he wears a coat and I wear gloves, I detect the heat of his flesh traveling into mine. I don’t know how it is possible that so chaste a touch can make it difficult to breathe, can awaken butterflies in my stomach, can cause my thoughts to scatter. I’ve gone on strolls with men, have rested my fingers on their arms, and yet for all the impact they’ve had on me, I could have been touching an ethereal being.
Ace is anything but. He is hard, toned, and sturdy. And my hand is once again feeling as though he’s taken possession of it. This awareness of him is inconvenient. How in the wo
