“Gonna be a reckless little slut?” My voice is raspy, heavy with need. “Right here, out in the open, pushed up against the wall?” I bite his bottom lip to the point it’ll definitely sting. Tasting that cherry sweetness on his tongue and a slight tang, the chalkiness of face paint, as I suck on that spot. “If that’s what it takes.” He breathes choppily. Still clinging to my shirt. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.” I lick at the pouty curve of his bottom lip. “Thought there wasn’t anything . . . that we weren't gonna be anything.” “Well, maybe I changed my mind.”
