Her hand squirms, her attention beginning to wander the bustling street and droning voices. “It’s probably nothing.”
“No, it’s definitely something.” Coming up on the landing, I get the door for her and follow her into the heavy odor of used books and printer ink. “Over here.”
Letting her hand go, I gesture to the computer room set off to the side. My other hand does what the fuck it wants. It lands on the small of her back with a gentleness that I hope teases her, makes her delirious for more, for it to get rougher, more possessive.
Her firm muscle tenses beneath my touch, and she swallows hard, distractedly looking around at the books we pass. “I thought my first time would be revolutionary,” she whispers.
First time? First time what?
Ushering her to a chair, my grip around the back of it to pull it out turns deadly, trying to decide if she meant her first time out since… or the thought that’s burning my blood.
She wouldn’t remember that. Unless she’s fucked someone at the trailer. No. She wouldn’t. She hasn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, widely staring at the psychosis I’m stuck in.
“For what?” My eyes sharpen, the muscles in my jaw ticking with the clench of my teeth.
She crosses her arms over her midriff, rounding her shoulders in with a pout. “For not jumping and skipping.”
Thank fuck.
I exhale, letting the irrational ire drain and relax my arms. “I didn’t expect you to do all that. Sit.”
Watching her do as I say without a huff or snarky remark should skate satisfaction down my spine. But Bunny’s illness matches mine.
We’re sick together.
That’swhat I crave.
The push and chase of sadomasochism, the macabre tilt of our own romance.
Being on a time crunch has me leaving her be and taking the seat next to her. I’ve fucked around on these computers before, so I’m not an imbecile. I do in fact know how to open a browser.
Getting the site I need pulled up, Bunny shifts uncomfortably, pulling at her tiny shorts and bucking her hips.
I obviously fucking catch it and watch it, trying to decipher what’s going on all while feeding my eyes with her glowing skin. But I don’t think I was supposed to because she locks eyes with me and gets stiff.
“My butt crack is sweaty,” she mouths, making a very slight whisper.
My eyes close, inhaling the impulse control I need to not say what’s conjuring up animalistic visuals for my horny mind.
“Do you…” I start to bite my tongue, but she’s looking right at me with pools of innocence, even though she’s already shown me the fractures that corrupt her. “Bunny, you cannot say shit like that to me.”
“Yours is probably sweaty too,” she mumbles, giving me a barren shrug.
Thinking about my sweaty ass opposed to tongue fucking hers has the burn of lust dissolving. “It is,” I nod, trilling my lips and scrolling through flyer templates.
“What are you making flyers for?” She leans in, lustrating my senses with a scent so sweet it tingles me from my head to my toes.
I click on the simplest one, having to shake my leg for a distraction from how hot she makes me. “Our next act.”
“Hm?” She tilts her head toward me, flattening her brows with sparkling, curious eyes.
Her mouth. It’s right there. So pouty it looks like she’s pursing her lips, like she’s hoping I’ll dip down and collide us into something sick and fervent.
It’s my turn. You’re mine now, little bunny.
“You’re gonna be in the Globe with me.”
