Having him around was dangerous in more ways than one, and if I could get him to walk away, even temporarily . . . "Time spent alone won't do it, Jennifer," he denied immediately, and then his palms were stroking my bare arms.

He groaned softly as her palms stroked his back and arms.

More from desire than confidence, her palms stroked over him as his shirt joined her dress on the floor.

His palms opened on her inner thighs and stroked in stirring circles against her skin.

A cool soft palm stroked his forehead.

Her palm stroked her mother's brow.

Her palms stroked over his thighs, near the bend of his buttocks.

She touched him gently, then laughed as he jumped-the nerves in the half- hard, half-soft place where her palm stroked were still very lively, it seemed.