He smiled, let his hands run up and down those pretty arms.
Austin's hands were again running up and down her back.
His left hand ran a pattern, up and down, along her lower back.
The white hands were now running through the pages of the address book.
Suddenly they were on the floor, her hands running over his ruined back.
My hands ran over his torso for the first time.
Her hands ran along the night table for the lamp.
She felt the fingers of his other hand running along the scars.
Looking up the arm, she saw a watch, ticking time away, hands running fast around the hours.
Her hands ran quickly over the wounded man's body, searching for ways to help.
