Brooklyn laughed as Chase struggled with her bra. She loved that despite what they were doing, they still managed to laugh about everything. As he continued to fiddle with the clasp, she kissed him harder and ran her hands through his hair.
He continued to tug at the strap and Brooklyn tried not to laugh as she began to kiss down his collarbone. “For the love of God, just rip it.” She whispered, a smirk on her face.
“Fine,” he grunted, and with the slight tug in both directions with all his might, the hook ripped. He felt it go limp in his hands and he paused for a moment. Chase took slow breaths as his hands gripped the straps, pulling it up slowly, down her shoulders and arms.
Gently, he threw it over the edge of the bed, taking in his new view of her. His heart now doused, was ignited in a new type of fire he’d never felt before. Every inch of him felt nervous; it’d never been like that for him before. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, only slight movements.
He slowly lowered his head to hers and kissed her lips lightly, the intensity growing by each passing moment.
