2 Quotes by Ainsley Wynter

He pulled out the length of cord holding his hair back. She stroked her fingers over his head, some of his hair spilling across the backs of her hands. "Someone should fuss over you," she murmured. His head was almost in her lap. The cool length tempted her to run her fingers through it and tug him closer.

Heat traveled up his spine and he resisted the urge to pull her closer. She surprised him over and over today. But this, this swirling tension, that tightened and curled each time she touched him surprised him the most. She wasn’t supposed to kiss like that.