Andrew holds Avery's waist with one hand and takes her hand in his.
"Don't be nervous," he whispers, "I'll help you."
Avery cringes away from his touch. She'd rather die than feel his hands on her body.
"Let go of me," she hisses warningly, "I don't need your help."
Andrew smiles to himself and his hot breath brushes Avery's ear.
"Acting tough isn't going to do you any good," he whispers, "You don't have any experience."
"I'd rather die," Avery replies.
She lifts her head as defiantly as a queen. His chest is pressed firmly against her back and he can feel the heat from her body through their thin clothes. His entire body feels like it's on fire, and he half wonders how the heat hasn't burnt their clothing to ash.
"Do you know why this heart is beating so madly?" he asks.
