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“Why don’t you just take them off completely?” I suggest, my voice is hoarse and thick with desire.
“But they’re part of the outfit,” she complains.
A groan emerges from the back of my throat.
“Bree, please, I’m not made of stone.”
But there’s a part of me that will be if my fingers get close to her ass again.
“Fine, but you need to tie my boots after.”
Relief spreads through my system as I take off her boots one by one and claim the black stockings, folding them in a tiny roll. I turn around when she goes to finish her business and tuck the tights inside my other pocket.
“The boots,” she reminds me.
The skirt is back in its place, which is a huge relief, and I get down on one knee to tie the shoes one by one.
“All done.”
“Thanks.” Bree smiles at me, turning around to wash her hands.
She turns around and focuses her sight on my mouth. The tension between us becomes almost unbearable in the tiny space that we’re sharing. I step closer to her, putting my hands on the sink. Her breath hitches but she doesn’t break eye contact. Instead, one of her hands finds its way to my neck, my skin burning under her touch. I lean closer, letting the moment reign over me.
Bree licks her lips and lets out a sigh, looking away.
“Can we go outside? I need fresh air.”
Immediately, I nod, regaining some control of the situation.
Patiently, I guide her to the front yard. The back of the house is typically full of people and I don’t think she’s going to enjoy that. Especially when she’s getting sick and needs a space where the air is pure and will refresh her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, slightly concerned for her.
“I’m a little dizzy, that’s all. I hate being drunk,” Bree replies in a moan as she closes her eyes and leans her head against my chest. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to ease the sickness.
“That’s one of the cons of drinking.”
“I just hope that I don’t puke,” she mutters.
Gently, I put a hand on her back, rubbing up and down. It’s not a lot, but it seems to help her because I can sense her muscles relax.
“I promise that I will hold your hair if you do.”
Bree snorts.
“Charming.” A minute of silence surrounds us before she backs away. “Where did your costume come from?”
I tilt my head.
“I like the book,” I mumble with honesty. “I read it back in High School and I finally convinced Ryder to match with me. Last year he made us come as shirtless doctors.”
Bree giggles.
“That sounds like Ryder.”
She’s not wrong at all. Ryder likes to take advantage of his looks to get girls. It’s what makes him an efficient fuckboy. If he has a chance to be shirtless in public, he will take it.
“Getting rid of the fake blood was a bitch, though.”
