Then he'd leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers ... lightly ... gently.Layla's "ohhhhhh" hadn't been an act at all, and it hadn't been said beca...se she knew her line either.His fingers had gone on, drifting to her throat and around to the back of her head, where his hand spread out and pulled gently, until her lips met his again.That hadn't been in the script.As Mr. Wilson, he had touched her shoulders, arms, and sides—coming perilously close to her breasts, but never actually touching. He flips his hand over and our fingers entwine. I lean forward and put my other hand on his knee slowly sliding it up his firm thigh. I watch him closely and all he can do is concentrate on my hand on his leg. I notice that he is breathing a little harder. ‘Do you like that?’ I ask. ‘Yeah,’ as he looks up into my eyes. ‘Do you want to play?’ He asks, ‘do you?’ ‘I have been wanting to play for a long time, but you know that. I have never been shy about admitting it,’ I say. ‘What did you have in. More

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