Summer didn’t dignify that with an answer, sweeping her hands over his shoulders and along his throat to start on the buttons of his vest and shirt. She pressed her hips forward, rocking slowly into him, and threaded one hand under his shirt, light fingertips dancing down his ribs and sweeping over his breastbone.
He bit his lip, wanting to get straight to it but knowing she would prefer the long way. “I can’t handle waiting,” he mumbled under his breath. “I need it. More than you need it.”
She pulled away so fast she cracked her head on the wall. “If you want a quick lay, you can leave.” All the warmth was gone from her voice and expression. “You aren’t that deprived.”