As the last button of his shirt gave way, the music ended, and I paused there. I spread it wide open, exposing the firm planes of his chest and his rock-hard, sexy abs. I didn't know why, but it made my heart flutter. It wasn't supposed to do that. My fingertips trailed lightly over his skin, savoring the warmth radiating from him. In high school, I had a crush on him and wanted to be part of his life. I could still remember how I had fantasized about trailing my fingers over his chest and abs, until the incident that made me see him as the worst human being alive. He drew on his cigarette, then offered it back to me with a slow exhale that curled around my face. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands still settled possessively on my waist. I took the cigarette, my lips brushing against his fingers, and took a long drag before blowing the smoke back in his face. “Why would I be okay?” I asked, looking up at him. “When I have no choice in this?” “You did.” He tossed the cigarette i
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