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Her hand stops right above my pubic area and starts going up, her eyes following it, avoiding looking at me.
“Maybe I was trying to be a lady.”
“Well, be a lady at work. But after work, when you are at my place, you can—”Let go, I want to say, but she cuts in.
“Be a savage?”
I laugh loudly, dropping my hand down. She is impossible. “Pretty much,” I say, shaking with laughter.
She frowns, her smile disappearing, raises herself on her elbows, and looks around, cocking her head.
“Kat?” I go quiet. “What is it?”
This sudden change in her is spooky.
She frowns even more. “Is someone else here?”
I rise on my elbow and glance around, taken aback for a second. “No. Why?”
She locks her gaze with mine, worry in her eyes. “I heard someone laugh.” She cocks her head to one side, and her frown deepens. “Surely it couldn’t be you.”
Her lips start spreading in a grin.
This fucking girl…
I wrap my arm around her waist and yank her flush against my chest.
“So the cactus blooms,” she murmurs.
“Ha. Ha.” I mock her.
For several seconds, we are quiet, just gazing at each other.
It’s slightly awkward. Like I was caught in a vulnerable moment. There’s that pendulum again—swinging like it does in polar directions, from angry to horny, from happy to awkward, from sexy to… intimate.
Nope.
Stop.
This is epigenetics at its finest—every experience, emotion, feeling gets engrained in your DNA and leaves a trace. Kat is doing too much of it lately.
I don’t like when she looks at me like this. Like she can see right through me. But I can’t look away—her gaze is hypnotic—and there is this momentary desire to unbraid her hair, see her completely undone, learn what she’s like when no one is watching.
“We made a mess on your couch,” she says, finally breaking the silence, her quiet voice etched with that seductive note again.
I lean and kiss her slowly, sucking on her lower lip. “Want to make more mess together? That can be your new job.” We are back to our comfort zone
“I have a job. I like sex as a hobby.”
I chuckle against her lips. She is so openly unapologetic.
“I’m thirsty,” she murmurs.
“Want a drink?”
Though the only thing I want to drink right now is her pussy, so wet for me that it can drown the Atlantic Ocean.
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