In His Arms

Michelle felt mischievous and raked her fingers along Rashad’s chest. It heaved again, and he shifted in his seat.

“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said you could do that again.”

Michelle smiled and let her hands come to a rest. Rashad wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close to his warmth. She could feel the heat from his body as she rested her head on his shoulder, and his arm was like a blanket around her.

Without thinking about it, she ran her fingers over his chest again. Rashad turned toward her with a passionate look on his face that made her catch her breath, and before Michelle could react, he had drawn his hand inside her sweater and over her chest.

His touch filled her with desire, and her nipples tightened under his fingers. And he didn’t stop. He caressed the taut peaks that his fingers had just made until she was shivering with each flicker, until a low murmur escaped her throat.

They teased each other like that on and off throughout the film, stopping when one had had too much or to hear a touching or rousing song. But one or the other would start up again after the interlude. Occasionally, Rashad dipped his head to kiss her forehead or her ear. It made Michelle shiver, but he couldn’t really know what it did to her, the way it set her moisture flowing.

They sat up as the credits rolled and looked at one another. Her face felt flushed, and she was sure that the passion he saw there matched the passion in his own eyes.

“I have to get you home to Andre, don’t I?” Rashad said.

“No, he’s staying with Nigel and Regina and their little girl tonight.”

Rashad looked into her eyes and spoke in a soft, deep voice that sent quivers into the pit of Michelle’s stomach. “Come home with me,” he said. “Let me make love to you.”