There was something in Christopher's voice when he agreed she shouldn't have taken his name with her lips or called him so boldly as she had.
Something about the way he had sounded and looked at her hinted he might have come undone by that peculiar act, and that excited her almost too weirdly.
She murmured his name ever so slightly in her head, 'Christopher.'
It felt velvety; her tongue pricked to call it out and test this spinning theory in her mind that, just like her, Christopher might just be attracted to her.
At the tender age of nineteen, she has become familiar with the signs of a man who's taken an interest in a woman; the subtle yet lingering gazes and undisguised interest. She was well acquainted with them and more.
And while she had found that of every other man debaucherous and repulsive, Christopher stirred in her an excitement for wicked possibilities.
