We both freeze.
The color drains from Kat’s face. “He’s not… he can’t be back. Has it already been thirty minutes?”
The engine dies.
A car door slams.
Kat jumps up from the table, and like a coward, I fall to my knees. She turns just in time for Vince to walk in the backdoor on the opposite side of the room.
His footsteps are heavy, approaching. I am frozen on the floor, a deer in the kill zone, hidden from view by the table but utterly exposed if he takes three more steps into the room. Kat’s hand flies to her hair, a futile attempt to smooth the wild curls. She turns her back to the archway, her body blocking me, and I see her knuckles are white where she grips the table’s edge.
“You’re back fast,” she says, her voice miraculously steady, only a slight tremor beneath the surface.
“Yeah, traffic was clear,” he says, his tone distracted. He sets the bags on the counter with a rustle. “You okay? You look…flushed.”
“Just cleaning up,” Kat says too quickly, grabbing a tipped-over mug from the table.
I am trembling on the floor behind her, hidden by the fall of her shirt and the shadow of the table. The smell of her is all over my face, a sweet, musky perfume.
The danger is intoxicating. My eyes fix on the backs of Kat’s thighs, still visible beneath the hem of her shirt.
Silent as a snake, I shift forward on my knees. My hands find her ankles, then slide up the smooth skin of her calves. She jolts, a tiny, suppressed gasp catching in her throat. Vince hums to himself, putting milk in the fridge. My fingers slip higher, under the rumpled shirt, over the back of her knees, to the scorching heat of her inner thighs. She is still dripping wet.
I nuzzle my face against the back of her right thigh, inhaling her scent deeply.
Her whole body goes rigid. One of her hands drops from the table and finds the top of my head, not pushing me away, but gripping, her fingers tangling in my hair. A silent command: more.
“Let me grab the other bags from the car, and I’ll give you a hand,” Vince says, his footsteps receding toward the door.
The moment the door clicks shut. Kat whirls around, her eyes blazing with a feral mixture of panic and lust. She doesn’t speak. Her hands are under my arms, hauling me to my feet with a strength that surprises me, then shoving me backward.
She yanks open the pantry door and pushes me inside, into the deep, narrow dark.
“You are insane,” she hisses, her mouth crashing against mine in a furious, tasting kiss. It’s all teeth and desperation.
She shoves my shorts and panties down to my knees in one rough pull. The cool air of the pantry kisses my wet skin, making me gasp.
“He’s coming right back,” I pant against her lips.
“I know.” Her cold fingers trace my hip bone. “So be quiet.”
Kat’s hand clamps over my mouth as her fingers slide onto my pussy, finding my clit, and I arch off the wall with a choked groan.
“Oh my god! Ollie!” She moans with shock. I don’t need to ask to know exactly what she means.
I can hear Vince just outside the thin wood, his footsteps a heavy, casual rhythm on the kitchen linoleum. The crinkle of a grocery bag, the thud of a cabinet closing. So fucking normal.
“Shhh,” she soothes, but there’s no soothing in it. It’s a threat. A promise. “Soaked,” she murmurs, her lips moving against the shell of my ear. “Dripping for me while my boyfriend is ten feet away. You’re such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”
I am. I nod into her hand, my eyes squeezed shut, every nerve tuned to the three sources of torture: Vince’s oblivious puttering, Kat’s fingers circling my clit with a slow, unbearable precision, and the shock of how filthy her mouth can be.
She pushes two fingers into me without warning. I convulse around them, a choked scream trapped behind her palm. My head thuds back against a sack of flour.
“Easy,” she coos, her fingers curling, searching. “You want to be good, don’t you? You want to be my good girl and come on my hand without making a fucking peep.”
Her words are a vice around my heart, squeezing in time with her thrusts. The truth of them, filthy and undeniable, makes my cunt clench tighter around her.
“Does that feel good?” She murmurs against my neck, her lips kissing a trail up my jaw.
