Augustus's mouth moved to my jaw, then lower, brushing against my neck with enough pressure to send heat spiraling through me.
I'd kissed men before. Enough to know what it felt like to be interested.
This wasn't interest.
This was something that made my pulse race and my thoughts scatter.
My hand slid beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips grazing warm skin.
Augustus went still.
"Alright?" I whispered.
"Yes."
I pushed the fabric higher, tracing the defined lines of his abdomen. Hard muscle shifted beneath my palm. My thumb followed the ridge of his ribs, and I felt his breath hitch.
"Juliette—"
"Tell me to stop if you want."
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, then reached down and tugged the shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
I'd seen him shirtless before, when coffee had ruined a perfectly good morning and stripped away his polished facade.
This was different.
Then, I'd been mortified and determined not to stare.
Now, I stared.
