Laughing, I stand and cross the room, and as I do, Jemma and her friend walk in from the foyer. Jemma’s in this short purple dress. A tight—skin-fucking-tight—purple dress. It clings to every goddamn curve, leaving just enough for me to imagine ripping it off of her before slamming her down on a bed. Fuck. Wanting her is about to kill me.
