““You know, I earn a good living with that hand.” Brody’s eyes narrowed on our joined hands. Mine was squeezing all the color from his, except where my nails were nearly piercing his skin. “Sorry.” “I’m teasing. Squeeze away.” He leaned toward me. “I like the feel of your nails digging into me. I miss the way they scratch at my back when you’re close and I slow down.” “Really? You’re going to go there when I’m busy trying to have a panic attack?” He chuckled. “You need a distraction.””
