She lets him, nuzzling along his cheek, feeling the scratch of his five o'clock shadow along her lips. Her hands settle on his chest, fingertips pressing through the fabric until she feels his body beneath. The warmth feels good and she leans closer.
"You are a mad man, you know this?" Her words are pitched low, almost a whisper. "Why are you here with me?"
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"You are a mad man, you know this?" Her words are pitched low, almost a whisper. "Why are you here with me?"