Mistakes Were Made

by Meryl Wilsner

She paid—for her and Erin both—as quickly as she could, slipped her jacket on, and headed for the bathroom. The other patrons were now a bunch of assholes standing around cockblocking her—or, more accurately, clamjamming her.

“God,” Erin whispered, and Cassie couldn’t resist. “You can just call me Cassie.” Erin glared at her, breaking the look with a moan when Cassie scissored her fingers.

Cassie was pretty sure this was the best day of her life. She was three fingers deep in this gorgeous woman who was clenching like crazy, obviously close—she was about to make this fucking gorgeous woman come on her fingers in the back of a car, and she couldn’t think of anything better.

“Christ,” Cassie said, falling back. “You can just call me Erin.” Cassie lost her laugh in a gasp.