Her gaze cuts over her shoulder for a moment and back to his face, using the excuse of letting her hair down to think.
It doesn't matter, she wants, she wants.
She goes to him, her hands fisting in his shirt, her teeth fixed in her lower lip. She wants his hands on her, wants to kiss that mouth again. Nothing short of automatic weapons fire is going to keep her from that.
no subject
It doesn't matter, she wants, she wants.
She goes to him, her hands fisting in his shirt, her teeth fixed in her lower lip. She wants his hands on her, wants to kiss that mouth again. Nothing short of automatic weapons fire is going to keep her from that.