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She scooted away and lay down, resting her head on his thigh, bringing up her knees so her feet wouldn't interfere with Kara. The movements rucked up her jacket so it bulged out from her chest. The opening at the top of the zipper was like a pyramid-shaped window. It gave her a clear view of the shadowy sides of her breasts. |
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She murmured, 'Woops,' and wondered if she'd said that to draw Tom's attention to the gap. His head was higher, though. He wouldn't be able to see in. Not quite so far, anyway. And she could feel that the jacket had come up enough to reveal a band of bare skin at her waist. Maybe he was looking there. Or maybe his eyes were on the Eastwood movie. |
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She imagined his hand slipping inside the gap, drifting over her skin, cupping one of her breasts. |
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He wouldn't do that in a million years, she thought. |
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And if he did, I probably shouldn't let him. |
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She gripped the elastic around the bottom of the jacket and tugged. The bulge came down. The fabric pressed snug against her. She folded her hands on her belly. |
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The opening was gone. But her thoughts about Tom's caresses had excited her. The mounds where her breasts pushed the jacket up were tipped with blunt peaks. |
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She felt a blush spread over her skin, heating up the mild burns. |
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She willed her nipples to soften, to melt down flat. But they didn't obey. |
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