Moments later, he had her back pinned against the wall and she was kissing him. Where, it didn’t matter. Neck, lips, jawline. His hands pulled down the top of her dress and unhooked her bra, and Kylie took a shaky breath and instinctively covered her milk-white breasts from the cool night air. Her breathing quickened as her heavy-lidded eyes watched his hand run along her thigh, and under the lining of her petticoat. He forced a hand down between her legs an up her warm thighs, rubbing along the thin fabric of her panties. Cotton, not polyester.
“Gentry…” she hissed, pressing back against him. His hand slipped beneath the thin fabric, pushing into the heat of her body.
Instead he dropped his hand and moved to face her. After giving her a quick lookover, he ordered for her to, “Lose the dress. I want to see every part of you.”
She slowly complied, wiggling out of it and then carefully draping it over a crate, standing before him in nothing more than her heels and baby blue panties. Her eyes searched his shadowy face for a sign of approval, as her legs slowly spread apart and her hands came up to cover her tear-shaped breasts. Gentry moved behind her to pluck off her restricting fingers, one by one.
“You like?” she breathed, inhaling sharply as his hands covered her soft, barely formed nipples. Every part of her was soft, warm, bare. He gave a closelipped smile and brushed his lips against her neck, then pressed the front of her body against the door. He pinned her wrists against the cool metal, and her lips met his in a heated kiss.
“Yes. This is perfect.”
Then he threw open the door and shoved her out into the dawn.