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The worst part was the way he’d looked at her once he realized he wasn’t interrupting a deep throating. As if he was disappointed in her. Which made no sense, because he couldn’t possibly care what she did with Grip or anyone else.
“The next time he looks at you like you kicked his kitten, you have permission to fuck with him.”
She checked her face in the mirror, shook her head so that the red under-color flashed in her hair, happy that the shock of seeing Jay again unexpectedly wasn’t showing all over her face. Perversely pleased that the shock of seeing her on her knees with Grip had shown all over his.
