Summer's face burned as she scrambled to defend herself, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I-I'm not! I just said you're being too rough. Like I'd get turned on from sandpaper grip," she muttered, her voice full of defensiveness.
She tried to push him away, but her hands lingered, betraying her true feelings. Don's smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath grazing her ear. "Sure, Summer. Keep telling yourself that," he whispered, his tone still one of amusement.
His hands resumed their gentle exploration, and despite her protests, she still couldn't deny the shivers that ran down her spine.
As Don did this, his gaze lingered on her breasts, a smirk growing as he took in the sight of her hardened nipples. "It's hard to believe you when your nipples look like missiles about to launch," he teased, his voice low and playful.
