Isak pulls away. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. My toes curled. It hurt my ankle.”
Isak chuckles. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be. I liked kissing you.”
“Mmm. Same.” His voice rumbles around the room, burrows into my flesh and settles underneath my skin. I run my fingers up his arm—loving the feeling of thick muscles underneath the fabric of his sweater, wishing I could tear it off and touch his naked skin—up his shoulder over his collarbone. Gently, I caress away the wild strands of hair from his face, giggling when they bounce back.
“I can’t imagine a lawyer with hair like this. A knight in shining armor, yes. Or a tragic hero standing on a cliff high above the sea, gazing out over the water with sad eyes, pining for his long-lost lover while his angelic hair dances around his face.”
Isak smiles at
