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“Jack slid his hand between my thighs, fingers stroking where once dry panties used to be. "This doesn't change anything." I sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers breached the cotton barrier. "I'm still angry with you." Jack froze, his fingers only inches from where I wanted them to go. "Are you sure you're good with this?" "Yes, so long as you understand that it doesn't mean anything. After this, things go back to how they were." Twenty minutes later, disheveled and breathless, we held each other in the shadows. "Jack?" "Yes, sweetheart?" "You can have your greenhouse.” — Sara Desai
Jack slid his hand between my thighs, fingers stroking where once dry panties used to be.
"This doesn't change anything." I sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers breached the cotton barrier. "I'm still angry with you."
Jack froze, his fingers only inches from where I wanted them to go. "Are you sure you're good with this?"
"Yes, so long as you understand that it doesn't mean anything. After this, things go back to how they were."
Twenty minutes later, disheveled and breathless, we held each other in the shadows.
"Jack?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"You can have your greenhouse.