‘Miranda stop.’ He whispered but didn’t yank his hand away. ‘Please Chase?’ she whispered and eased his hand further toward the heat. ‘No...one has ever touched me….gently. Please just once?’ He looked over at her and saw the fear in her eyes. Saw the vulnerability in them. Then he thought about Rachel. Thrown away at eighteen by someone who claimed to love her. What if this had been Rachel? Didn’t he owe it to her as a man, a true gentlemen, to show her that not all men would hurt her? His. His hands kept up their work, undoing and removing her jeans so now she stood before him with just her pale blue thong. He groaned with lust. Meanwhile Fran had started to remove his clothes as well. She smiled at him as she took in his body with her eyes. She loved the way his chest hair so dark against his skin curled around her fingers as she pushed them across his chest. His manhood stood out from him like a flagpole. He was well endowed though Fran knew size wasn’t important. Ian had a way. More

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