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somehow that Adalynn could give it to her.
Adalynn’s hands were sure and steady as she slid them
below Cassia’s sodden hoodie. She pushed the wet fabric up
and Cassia raised her arms. She bit her lip as her sweater came
off. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her tank top, since it was
tight and had built-in cups meant to replace one. With the
baggy hoodie on, she knew no one would know. But Adalynn
knew. Cassia could feel how pebbled her nipples were and one
glance down at herself confirmed the pucker through her shirt.
The cool air of the kitchen rushed up to meet the wet fabric,
further exaggerating those stiff peaks.
“God,” Cassia moaned as Adalynn’s hands started working
her jeans open. Her thoughts were a racetrack, and she was in
an out-of-control car, zooming at high speeds, the possibility
of crashing incredibly high.
Adalynn pushed the soft, worn denim down Cassia’s
trembling thighs. She shuddered as Adalynn somehow made
an art out of something that should have been very awkward.
Jeans were never an easy to thing to get off when they were
tight.
Cassia thought of the night in Vegas, how Adalynn had
thrown her to the bed, how she’d spread her legs and feasted
on her pussy. Cassia didn’t know it was possible to feel such
pleasure. Her own fingers were a poor substitute and had been
ever since that night. Her frustration was at a boiling point,
and with Adalynn staring at the scrap of her lace panties, it
made Cassia ache to the point where she wasn’t sure if she
could bear it.
Adalynn ran her hand up Cassia’s leg, causing a volley of
shivers and goosebumps to rise on her skin. She threw back
