He caressed the delicate skin between her thighs, making her
sigh in
frustration.“You’re mine,” he growled. Her
skin felt like fine
satin as his fingers found their way to her core.
Before
she could ask, he…
“Have you not moved since I left?” Rory asked, throwing the groceries on the
counter of our new apartment. She leaned
on the black countertop, glaring at me like a scolding mother hen. I rolled my eyes, tossing my tablet to the
other end of the couch.
“I was at seventy percent when you left. You know what that means.”
“The climax,” we both answered together. Rory’s annoyed with me again. It comes in spurts. Sometimes she ignores my little
obsession. Days like today are the
worst. She’s planning her next attack,
pushing me toward “living life to the fullest”.
It’s crap. I like my little
bubble. There’s no chaos here. It’s structured and I know what’s coming.
“You’ve gotta get out.
This isn’t healthy,” Rory finished, throwing the cold stuff in our new
fridge.
I scoffed.
Sometimes there’s a twinge of excitement when I think about going out on
the town, but I can usually calm it down with a new book. Too much uncertainty exists with Rory’s
lifestyle. I like rules, structure. How can you have those things with
nightclubs, bars, wherever the hell Rory goes to pick up the flavor of the
week?
“I’ve got work in the morning,” I answered. That’ll
keep her quiet.
“Bullshit.”
Damn it. She finished with the groceries, leaning over
on the now empty counter. Her eyes
appraised me, searching for something.
“Get dressed. You’re coming with
me.”
“Fat chance.
I’ve got nine percent left.”
“What the hell could happen in nine percent, Lucy? You think somebody’s gonna die or
something?”
“Doubtful, but what if it ends on a cliffhanger? I’d have to at least read the first chapter
of the next one to see how it works out.
Just count me out.”
Rory stormed around the counter, coming to stand in
front of me with her hands on her hips.
“Get your ass up. I’m taking you
out if I have to drug you to do it.”
