Orla reached the bed. She was a few steps ahead of me, but the second her back hit that mattress I was on her, my clothed body to her naked one. Faded denim and an old Pogues tee to her soft, inked curves. My hands were everywhere, sweeping her damp skin with my rough palms, knowing she could take it. Revelling in the fact that she loved it. That she loved me.
