Fair’s fair

After what feels like forever, she finally lets go. “Glad you enjoyed. My turn now…” he says.

She feels his hand cup her breast through the thin silk, and her breath hitches—not from surprise, but from the confirmation of what she'd been waiting for. Her hand stays pressed against his stomach as she leans into the touch, her eyes never leaving his.

"No complaints here."

Her voice is steady, low, carrying a warmth that has nothing to do with the whiskey. She shifts closer on the couch, the silk riding up her thigh as she angles her body toward him fully. Her free hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, fingers tracing the line of his collarbone.