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“Do you like The Addams Family?” Bree blurts out.
Why am I not surprised by this sudden change?
“Yeah, I guess.” I shrug it off.
“I don’t think that I could stand anyone who doesn’t like it. Imagine not wanting a love story like Gomez and Morticia,” Bree comments and moves her hands like she can’t comprehend the feeling.
I can’t help but laugh.
What goes through Bree’s brain when she’s drunk? I’m not sure, but it’s unpredictable and spontaneous. Everything that comes out of her sassy mouth catches me off guard, stealing smiles and laughs from me. I know that that’s one of the things that I like the most about her, the way that I can never predict what her next steps are going to be.
She’s special and leaves a mark in everyone that knows her.
In a hall full of drunk people, with a song that I hate blasting in the house, I stare at her and realize that I can’t deny my attraction towards her. I like the only female friend that I’ve had in years, and I can’t hide it anymore because I would be lying to myself, and I’m tired of doing that.
“You are completely insane, Bree Pierce,” I say, shaking my head.
She shows me her tongue in a childish gesture.
“You knew it when you decided to be my friend, you can’t back out now.”
I don’t want to either.
I peek at the girls making out in front of us, and notice that the last person that went into the bathroom already came out. Grabbing Bree’s hand, I guide her to the door so she can do her business.
A gasp drowns in my throat when she pulls me with her into the small room, closing the door behind us. I’m paralyzed with my back pressed against the wood, trying to understand what the fuck is going on. Bree raises her gaze to my eyes and then descends it to my lips.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Bree, I don’t know if you realize, but this is something that you do on your own—”
“I need help,” Bree interrupts me and lifts her skirt all the way up to her waist.
“Fuck,” I mumble, my eyes darting up to the roof crowning my head.
There’s a knot in my throat as I focus myself to keep my eyes on the ceiling instead of going to where they want to. My heart is beating fast inside my chest and my mouth is dry as I fight the urge to make use of our promise. The invitation of hands expired the moment her cheeks got all red from the alcohol.
I’m being tortured.
I don’t know what I did in my previous life to deserve this, but it must’ve been a really bad thing.
“Help me with the stockings,” Bree pleads with a pout. “They’re Karma’s and I don’t want to break them.”
I’m going to lose my goddamn mind. Does she think that I have some sort of supernatural self-control, or that I’m a saint? Because I’m neither of those. I’m one step away from sitting her on the sink and fucking her seven ways to the hell where she belongs.
This is why the costume fits her just right. She’s a little devil that’s on her way to drag me to hell, teasing me and driving me crazy.
“Bree,” I beg.
“Please, I don’t want to ruin them.”
I take a deep breath, gathering the remains of my control. I’m a true masochist because I can’t deny her anything. I can’t believe that I haven’t even kissed this girl and she has me wrapped around her finger.
How the hell did I get here?
We could barely tolerate each other a month ago. She spent a whole week professing her hate for me. The world works in a funny and sick way because I’m fucked up. Bree Pierce could drag me to the worst place on earth and I’d still be happy that she took me with her.
I clear my throat, leading my trembling hands to her tights. My sight drops for a second, catching the hem of her black panties and I curse under my breath.Holy fuck.My dick hardens. I want her so bad it hurts.
