I bite it and tug on it, just shy of doing any lasting harm. I put my face in between her small breasts, only a small amount of cleavage, yet still so...satisfying. I rub back and forth, breathing in the fabric. I push her mounds together, my face in the middle, squishing them against my cheeks. I move higher up, reaching her chest above her bra. I lick up some little beads of sweat, inside her slight cleavage, up her chest, across her collarbone, up her neck. Salty and disgusting. So fucking. “I’m not comfortable,” said Paige. “I left my comfort zone back in New York. But people who let discomfort and embarrassment stop them don’t get very far in comedy. And this is funny as hell.”“I suppose it is pretty funny.” Max allowed himself to laugh.“Not just pretty funny.” Paige stripped off her t-shirt, leaving herself bare from the waist up. “It’s so funny, I’m already writing a whole web series in my head about an uptight American couple who come to St. Martin and accidentally check into. More

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