He groaned. Turned so that his temple touched hers. He remembered how the simplest stroke of her finger got him going the first time they met; that was nothing compared to lying on top of Valerie and having her drag her nails on bare skin. Tiny electric sparks shot along the nerve pathways. His back arched and stretched. What he really wanted was to take her hand and guide it to his stomach, but that was pushing it.

Hips rose and fell under him. She’s so fluid, he thought. All that twisting and straining had a graceful tension to it, like an animal in coiled control of her body, or a dancer. “They teach you how to move like that in England?” he asked, laughing quietly.

Brian retreated to look at her. Flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. Valerie’s lips were parted and he could see her straight, white teeth and the tip of her tongue. He stared. He pictured putting his thumb on her bottom lip and gently tugging it down. He eased closer and flicked his tongue across the soft, wet entrance to her mouth.

Alright, fuck it.

He let go of her leg and raised himself up a few inches. Brian took one of her palms and flattened it on his abdomen. “Here,” he said.