Seth Sinclair stared at her, a lazy brow arched. "And how are you going to help?"
Lianne lowered her gaze to his bare chest, then slowly raised both her hands.
Seth Sinclair scoffed under his breath. His long arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. "Don't want your hands anymore?"
'Her skin was so soft and delicate. Her palms couldn't handle the friction; they'd turn red in no time.'
"Well, you can't blame me. It's your fault for being so..." Lianne retorted.
'The first time she'd helped him, it was tiring, but thanks to her experience practicing the piano, it was still manageable. Who knew he'd become so much harder to please?'
Seth Sinclair grinned flirtatiously. "Fine. My fault."
The arm around her waist tightened, and he effortlessly flipped Lianne over so she was lying prone on top of him.
Its presence was too strong, and Lianne tried to shift away. Seth Sinclair held her tighter, coaxing softly, "Shh, don't move. Let me hold you for a while."
