The soft, unmistakable press of hardened nipples against his stomach through the thin fabric of her dress. The faint but undeniable scent rising from her skin, warm and sweet and wrong, so deeply wrong, because it was the scent of arousal from a woman who was also shaking like a leaf in a storm.
A flicker of treacherous heat woke up from a deep slumber low in his gut and even though it was so faint he usually wouldn't have noticed it, it did not change the fact that it was there.
It pulsed once before he crushed it with the full force of his will.
It was not what he thought it was.
It could not be.
His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. That sensation had no right to exist. Not for her. Not ever for her. It was revulsion. Rage. Anything but what it actually felt like.
It had been so long since he had felt it. So excruciatingly long.
