She flits down to my lips, and my chest hardens, an unbridling current zinging up my abdomen and knocking my brain around.
“Doing what?”
“Dancing, like the silk bunny you are.”
“Will I have room?”
“I’m not giving you room, no.”
Her breasts rise high with a deep breath, aiding me with the perfect view of her nipples tightening against the white fabric.
I inch closer, slipping my arm over the back of her chair. “You’ll feel me without me touching you.”
Squeezing her thighs, she glances around, as if the impure thoughts are making her self-conscious. But then she looks back at me and leans over my lap, planting her left hand in the small space between my legs. “What would happen if you did touch me? Would it mess you up?”
If you’re wondering—I’m not doing okay.
Her wrist is nestling my damn balls, and she’s so close in a graceful swath of sunlight, I can make out each strand that concocts the hazel brown of her irises.
“I might wreck again.”
She squints, so intent on drawing back to get distance from me, she doesn’t give me a single swipe of her palm across my thigh. “You believe that?”
“That’s what happened, Bunny.” Funneling acid down my throat, I set my flaming face on the screen and start getting busy on the only reason for coming in here.
“Whatever you say, Razor… You’re in charge.”
It’s like she wants me to fuck her mouth. And I’d wipe her fucking tears as she choked on my load.
I can calm my tongue when it comes to her riling me up. But I cannot control my hand launching out to the side of her chair.
Jerking my arm, the chair legs screech across the floor and she topples into me, letting out a little squeak and scrambling to shoot herself upright.
I smile at her. “Just like havin’ you close.”
She starts finger combing her tousled hair and avoids my eyes, her sun-kissed cheeks flushing pink with every breath that flares her nostrils.
The rest of the time I spend on the flyers and getting them printed—she’s silent. That’s usual. Bunny’s a quiet observer. But what’s not usual is for her to sink a room with suppressed emotions taping her mouth.
The printer is across the room in the corner, clicking and whirring and spitting out the flyers I need to hang around town.
I leave my seat and hustle to collect them. But I sent two hundred copies to the machine and it’s taking its damn time.
I’m patient. I can wait. It’s no big thing. Waiting is fine. Patience is a virtue.
Gripping the edge of the table, the clawing stretch of impatience leans me over the printer, my fingers tapping the rhythm of my displeasure on the underside.
I’m gonna get pissed if I feel gum or a sticky substance.
Thankfully, I don’t. The only thing pissing me off is the wait time for a printer to do it’s one job.
“You’re Bunny fromVore, right?”
I stand corrected.
My jaded eyes snap up to the wall, before shifting over my shoulder to stare down my back at the dude blushing while crowding my girl.
Why is she smiling? And talking to him?
