Must be signed in and friends with that member to view that page.
“How am I acting?” He sidles up behind me and rests his hands on my hips. I can feel their warmth through the delicate fabric of my dress. “Like I’m some asshole propositioning you in the prison parking lot. Like you hate my guts again.” He leans in to lay a slow kiss just below my ear. “Like last night didn’t mean anything to you.” I grit my teeth. “I don’t hate you anymore.” Maybe that’s the problem.
