“Nothing’s wrong. I just think we need to slow things down.” I scooped her bra out of the floor and held it out to her. Obediently, she put her arms through the straps, and I moved behind her and fastened it in place. “I’ve been undressed by a man, but I can’t say that I’ve ever been dressed by one,” she whispered. A smile tugged at my lips as I picked up her shirt and handed it to her. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked. I frowned. “No, dammit. Why would you think that?” She pulled her shirt over her head, and I gathered her hair and pulled it out, cascading it down her back. “I don’t know,” she whispered, studying me. I buttoned my shirt. “I need to go, Ava.” “What’s wrong, Ridge?” I could feel the muscle in my jaw clenching. How could I explain to make her understand?
