~~~This is a prequel, spin-off from Ties~~~
Briar Hayes has lived her entire life being polite, never daring to express the crazy and wild thoughts running laps in her head. At almost twenty-five, stuck in the throes of monotony, she finally snaps...
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* "Take it off," I demand against Trey's mouth while being overly scrappy with his shirt. I wrestle with the material, dying to see if his abs resemble the washboard I've been picturing in my head.
My palms heat against the skin of his lower back when I snake them under the fabric. Clawing and scoring, I'm bent on scratching the hell out of this itch.
He locks the door, and I reach—with my hand not admiring his well-mapped obliques—to flip the switch, more than ready for another switch to flip. That's right, we're going lights on for this production. Goosebumps sprout on my bare legs when he sets me down on the marble vanity.
"You really are like a guy." Trey pumps the brakes on the lavish mouth to mouth that's taken place since we got about ten feet from our apparent make-out room of choice. And I pump the brakes on trying to strip him from his shirt.
"I'm sorry. What?" I jolt back and my head clunks into the mirror above the sink. "Ow!" I rub my skull. "I'm like a guy? Your dick is hard between my legs, your tongue was justin my mouth, and you think that's a super sexy thing to say?" My glare is scathing. Not really because of what he said, though, that's annoying, but because the mirror packed a punch.
"No... I didn't mean... sorry." He grips the counter on either side of me. "I just meant because you're so forward. And the stuff you—"
"Women can't be forward?"
"That's... that's not what I'm saying..."
"What are you saying?" I fend off a chuckle and watch him scour the compact room, grasping for a response. I'm enjoying this. I know it's wrong, but it's fun seeing him bashful and shit.
"I shouldn't have said that." He clutches the back of his neck.
How many women has this guybeen with? He's sorely lacking in confidence, and trust me, there's no reason.
"Trey. Do you want to do this?" I ask, and loose waves hang down the sides of his face as he eagerly nods. "Because you seem—"
"Nervous." He's still nodding. "I am."
"Why?" I whisper. Although I flipped the switch to motor the exhaust fan to life, we aren't very far from—
"Have you seen you!?" He takes an additional step away after blurting it out.
"Have you seen you?" I challenge him.
"You're really intimidating. You're so—"
This guy is too sweet! However, someone needs to give Trey his groove back.
I vote me.
"You are hot. Like extreme sex-god, want-to-rip-your-clothes-off, hot. But you gotta chill." He gulps, and I twist his shirt in my fist before reeling him in.
