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Lauren’s hand on Sylvie’s lap was a blazing fire. She yearned for it to consume her.
“If you’re really lucky, you might just find out,” she whispered before taking Lauren’s bottom lip between her teeth.
Lauren squeezed her leg as she kissed her, her thumb pressing on the inside of her thigh, too many inches away from where she ached for her touch. Gripping the back of Lauren’s neck, Sylvie pulled her in closer, kissing her harder.
Sylvie wanted to be anywhere but in public as Lauren’s kiss warmed her from her core to her skin. She was too old to be making out in a bar, but she couldn’t stop herself. She’d been hooked from the first taste of Lauren’s lips, and now that she’d relapsed all these years later, there was no going back.
When Lauren pulled away, breathless and flushed, Sylvie nearly pulled her back in.
“Do you want to dance?”
No, I don’t want to dance! I want to go back to your place and tear all your stupid clothes off!
“Yeah,” Sylvie cleared her throat, “okay.”
