I’m only kissing her, but the sensation of Elle’s soft skin against my hands fans a burning desire in me. I break our kiss to take off my shirt, desperate to feel her skin against mine. When I do, I think I feel her freeze up, only slightly. But when I cover my mouth with hers again, she relaxes against me, her tongue brushing, sliding, and tangling with mine. My mouth moves from hers to explore the length of her neck and the curve of her shoulder in a trail of kisses. But when I reach the swell of her breasts, Elle starts shaking her head. “No. No, I can’t.” I immediately push up on my arms, letting go of her. My eyes search hers for an explanation. What did I do wrong? Did I hurt her? I catch her gaze, and to my surprise, it is still filled with the heat and longing I saw before. Knitting my brow, I start rolling to my side, but Elle stops me by holding onto my shoulders. She whispers, “It’s not you. It’s me.” “Hey, you don’t have to. It’s okay. Really.”
