“I don't know what to do,” she admitted, her voice wavering.
He smiled and stood, pulling her to her feet. One hand held her back, the other her neck, keeping her close, her breasts pressed to his chest. Tipping his head, his nose barely missed brushing hers and he felt her eyelashes when they fluttered.
“I'm afraid,” she said, perfectly still.
“I'm not,” he told her, shifting enough to bring his lips to meet hers.
