Crash
We're both holding each other, panting, and she's looking at me like I'm about to cut her arm off or something.
"Why are you stopping?" she gasps. "Crash I—"
"I know. Fuck, Kelly, I know. I do. I just... I think we need to talk about something first."
She blinks. "Now?"
"Yes. Right now."
"You're... joking right?"
"No. I'm sorry. But... can we go out to the living room or something?" I'm having trouble keeping my eyes on her face since her robe's open and it's very obvious she's not wearing a bra under that tank top.
When she doesn't move immediately, I pull the robe closed, tight over her, right up to the neck, then tug the ties around—the ones that I untied, her eyes say to me—and knot it in the front. Tight.
