Abi's hand slipped and grasped his wrist, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to encourage him or stop him from going further. She had an exhibitionist streak but she didn't want to get arrested and raise suspicion when her boyfriend had been dead for forty years.
His expression was adorable and she chuckled to release some sexual tension between them, reminding her of that first night dancing in Paris, teasing each other to breaking point. "Okay. You do need to let go of my breasts for this, though," she giggled and let go of his wrist, trying to calm her heart.
"I didn't know about the rooftop in Chicago. Kinky asshole." Abi kissed him and had a tiny twinge of jealousy at the romantic nature he expressed. He was romantic, she reminded herself, it was just different with them. Sentimentality was a private thing. "You keep a league table of women you slept with?" she asked, arching her brow at him quizzically.