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I love a bit of "this is wrong" hesitation with my 'cest.
“Josh,” Dad whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Josh?”
I closed my eyes and pinched his nipple a little harder, tugging on it gently. Any second now, he was going to stop me, and then it would get awkward as hell. I bit my bottom lip, bracing myself.
Sure enough, he grabbed my hand, pulling it away from his chest, but then, after what felt like an eternity of him just holding me by the wrist, he pulled up the hem of his t-shirt and tucked my hand under it.