Even still, I know she’s right.
She isn’t just another prey.
For whatever reason, I think she might betheprey.
“You’re a dangerous creature, Bonnie Miller.”
“Something tells me you’re just as much of a threat to me, Gemma Thomas.”
“I guess that means we should just be friends.”
Though the way she’s staring at my lips says the complete opposite.
I reach for the hem of her shirt and bring her closer, so close that I can feel her breasts rising against mine with every breath. My knuckles graze her stomach, and she sucks in a sharp breath, abs constricting.
“I thought we were supposed to conquer our fears,” I argue.
She reaches for my face and slips her finger beneath my chin. “I don’t think either of us is ready for that,” she whispers, our lips grazing.
Fuck.
My eyes close when her nose brushes mine. I don’t know what the hell is happening, but whatever it is, I’m drunk on it. I stick my tongue out and run it over her bottom lip, eliciting the smallest little noise from her.
I shift my fingers to the waistband of her leggings. “Is this the kind of friendship you want, babygirl?” I ask, gaze meeting hers.
Gemma swallows, and when she doesn’t respond, my hand drifts down the front of her leggings.
I’m waiting for her to push me away.
I’m waiting for her to grab my wrist and tell me to stop.
I can feel her holding her breath as I continue, as my fingers slide between her thighs, and I finally cup her heated center. She sucks air through her teeth, her eyes closing.
Fuck, I wish I was touching her without these clothes.
“Bonnie…”
Her voice is heavy and thick, and the desperate sound goes straight to my own throbbing cunt.
“Shh…” I shift us, pressing her back against the door. Gemma’s head sinks as if she doesn’t know what else to do with herself.Shit. I can feel how wet she is through these thin fucking leggings, and all I want is to get on my knees so I can taste her.
However, in the realm of dangerous things, that’s at the top of the list.
She grips the lip of the table nearby like she thinks if she touches me, she’ll die.
“Keep your hands on the wall or behind your back,” I tell her as I begin stroking her. “It doesn’t count if you don’t touch me.”
I lick the side of her throat, hesitating to bite or suck on her skin simply so that there’s no evidence when we go back inside. She begins to grind on my hand, and I grin against her.
God, this is glorious.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I breathe on her neck. “Is this all just from our chat? Or have you been thinking about this as much as I have?”
Her response is a breathy, “Always you,” that makes chills run down my spine.
She sucks in another sharp breath, and her head hits the wall when I press my leg between hers, intending to make the pressure unbearable for her. Her wetness seeps entirely through her leggings to the point that if they weren’t black, I’d be celebrating the most beautiful wet spot on them.
“Oh my god, Bonnie,” she whimpers.
