The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

her ass through her panties. Under her shirt, his hand traveled
up to her rib cage. Olive gasped and smiled into his mouth.
“You did that before.”
He blinked at her, confused, pupils blown large and dark.
“What?”
“The night I kissed you in the hallway. You did it that
night, too.”
“I did what?”
“You touched me. Here.” Her hand slid to her ribs to cover
his through the cotton.
He looked up at her through dark lashes, and began to lift a
corner of her shirt, up her thighs and past her hip until it
caught right under her breast. He leaned into her, pressing his
lips against the lowest part of her ribs. Olive gasped. And
gasped again when he bit her softly, and then licked across the
same spot.
“Here?” he asked. She was growing light-headed. It could
be how close he was, or the heat in the room. Or the fact that
she was almost naked, standing in front of him in nothing but
panties and socks. “Olive.” His mouth traveled upward, less
than an inch, teeth grazing against skin and bone. “Here?” She
hadn’t thought she could get this wet this quickly. Or at all.
Then again, she hadn’t really thought much about sex in the
past few years.
“Pay attention, sweetheart.” He sucked the underside of her
breast. She had to hold on to his shoulders, or her knees would
give out on her. “Here?”
“I . . .” It took a moment to focus, but she nodded. “Maybe.
Yes, there. It was . . . it was a good kiss.” Her eyes fluttered
closed, and she didn’t even fight it when he took the shirt
completely off her. It was his, after all. And the way he was