Chapter 2: Rising Tension
Evelyn’s fingertips hovered just above the waistband of Marcus’s jeans, her sharp green eyes locked onto his, daring him to break first. The denim was already straining, the thick outline of his cock pressing against the fabric like some impatient, trapped beast. She could *feel* the heat radiating off him through the material, the way his thighs tensed beneath her touch—or rather, the absence of it.
She didn’t touch him yet.
Not yet.
Instead, she licked her lips, her tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path over the lower curve of her mouth before she leaned in just close enough that the warmth of her breath ghosted over the bulge in his pants.