Rogue flushed, looking down at his words. He was reading her thoughts and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. The image of her pulling him down and her fingers in his back were ones she couldn't escape. He was right, as much as she wanted to believe it was all him...it wasn't. Her every touch and kiss and sentence encouraged the behavior and deep down, part of her liked it.
"...." She opened her mouth, but she couldn't speak, what was there to say? He was right about her, about everything...it was all on her. "I just don't like to be touched." She turned and started out of the room, chocolate strands pulled from her face at the movement. She had to get out of here...before she turned around and did something she would regret...or like.