“No.”
She’s squirming again, digging her short, black nails into the edge of her vanity, and subtly cocking one thigh over the other.
My horny little rabbit wants more.
I take a brief look at my reflection, just to see the face that has Bunny, my wet fucking nightmare, writhing in place when my features are hidden.
The crisp, black lines slicing and contouring the white paint to design a stark skull has me leaning closer, my jaw falling a little loose from the pervasive awe I’m being attacked with. “Damn, Bunny…”
She shrugs coyly, raising bent fingers to her mouth to chew away the smile making her blush harder. “I still need to set it…”
Slowly panning my disbelief to her, I slink off the stool, backing her up against the vanity. “Years, Bun. You’ve been holding out on me for years.”
Throwing her arm down, her hand smacks against the vanity, rattling bottles of perfume and makeup, and she tilts her hips back to crane away with those innocent fucking eyes. “I’m not that good.”
Crowding her, I place my hands to the vanity on either side of her hips, lowering my still, desirous expression down to the mewl she’s letting out for me. “We’re still talking about makeup?”
“I thought so,” she murmurs, not blinking.
“No, baby,” I shake my head, swallowing the buzz creeping up my throat from the way she’s targeting my mouth. “You ready to rock? Or do you need something from me?”
“Uh-uh,” her head pendulums, that one curl swaying around her contradictive eyes.
She’s gonna drive me crazy with this. It’s like she knows the one thing I want the most is her pouty mouth. That’s the trademark of an established claim. Not eating pussy or getting head, or, fuck, sinking deep inside her.
Whichwillhappen.
It’s her willingly giving me her softness, her allowing me to lock my lips with her intimacy for the taste of her illness.
Iknowshe’s insane.
She just swallows it.
“Okay,” I whisper, lingering a moment longer to edge myself with suspense.
She doesn’t take the bait. She just gives me a big-eyed nod and waits for me to back up off her. I guess she really doesn’t wanna play seven minutes in the psych ward with me.
What a shame.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BUNNY
Razor took me off the schedule for tonight so that I can watch them and get a feel for the Globe before entering it. Since I, uh, abandoned practice.
It’s daunting when night falls and spotlights are sizzling through the heat.
They have so many more people who care to see them. They’re all shrieking and spilling things and flashing their chests.
I knew my tent was dreary. My morose is imprinted on the walls and stains every inch of the floor. But it’s overwhelming to go from rather silent observers to… this.
My stomach twists, lightening my head and shaking my vision. I grip my knees for a reality check, getting a whiff of the blue raspberry cloud on my left.
“I’d be such a slut if I was them,” Ora shakes her head, resting the mouth of her vape between her lips while paying attention to the guys getting their bikes inside the cylindrical walls.
A laugh huffs through my nose, my expression not matching the sound.
That’s… not really a sight I wanna obsess over.
