His kisses were wicked and addictive, so addictive they probably should be made illegal.  Wicked kisses that made her feel so needy that she slipped her hands down his back and started to gather his shirt so she could pull it off.  She was barely aware of him walking across the room, other than the rubbing of their lower halves had taken on an alternative level of intensity.<br/><br/>She squeaked as she fell back onto the bed but just as hurriedly as he was working on her skirt and underwear she worked on removing her top and bra.  It wasn’t until she was completely naked that insecurity hit her.  She trembled as she felt his eyes trail over every inch of her in the semi darkness.  Then she felt the heat in her toes, heat that crept up her into a full body blush.  Wondering if he could see the extra ‘<em>padding</em>’ she knew  was carrying lately, ‘<em>love handles</em>’ that no matter how hard she worked out in the gym just wouldn’t go away.   The fact he had already seen her naked didn't lessen the anxiety.