My heart stopped as her eyes dropped down to my chest and her hand rose, slow and shaky, to touch me. I held my breath as I waited, so attuned to her I felt the heat of her fingers just before they brushed my bare skin. With a touch that was barely a touch, her fingertips skimmed over my flesh, tracing the circle of the tattoo that covered my pec.

My eyes closed, and I ground my teeth together as my body reacted to her touch, hardening to the point of pain. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs in short pants.

She pulled her hand away and...