Page 8 of Not A Whisper

I impress myself when I lift my arm to point toward the bathroom and my hand doesn’t shake.

Trip doesn’t turn around. In fact, his pace quickens. Losing my nerve, I stumble backward. I don’t move fast enough. Trip’s there, suddenly, his hand wrapping around my neck before he shoves me back against the wall. I gasp. Tilting his head, he smirks.

“Huh, I thought something was missing from this outfit. Turns out, it was me. My hand looks good wrapped around your neck, dollface.”

I laugh, the sound a little breathless. “I tend to go with flashy accessories. Maybe you can get it tattooed for me?”

“I’ll consider it.”

I open my mouth to respond but Trip’s already moving,bending at the waist. Before I figure out what he’s doing, he’s yanking me up off my feet and throwing my body over his shoulder.

“TRIP BANIKER, PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” I attempt to shriek in outrage. It’s hard to sound stern through a bout of giggles though. I’m not asmallwoman. Never have I been manhandled like this before I met these guys. There’s a thrill at knowing that my weight is nonconsequential for them.

Rather than respond, Trip carries me toward the bedroom.

“No, wait, Trip, we don’t have time for this!”

“You should’ve thought of that before throwing down the gauntlet, dollface.”

Though my bedroom door is partially opened, Trip kicks it open further. It bangs against the wall as we enter. Coming to a stop at the edge of my bed, Trip drops me unceremoniously onto the mattress. I land with a huff as the breath is knocked out of me. Even as I scramble to sit upright, heat is gathering in my veins.

“Trip! My hair and makeup!”

Rather than answer me, Trip stares down at me with a look that sits somewhere firmly between malevolent and hungry. The shadows gathering on his face only highlight the wicked glint in his eyes.

“Take it off, or I will.”

I lick my lips nervously as my core clenches with excitement. “You’ve gotten softandlazy? Trip, I’m so disapp?—”

He reaches down, grabbing my ankles and yanking me closer to him. It’s so unexpected, I don’t have time to catch myself and end up flopping onto my back. Before I can tell him to stop, Trip reaches up to grab the hemline of the dress. The next thing I hear is the sound of fabric tearing.

“No, Trip! Not the dress!”

The material didn’t cover much, but the cool air rushes overmy upper thighs, stomach, and breasts as what little there is falls away. The pasties I have covering my nipples don’t hide how they harden under his heated gaze. Just as I’m about to tell him how much this dress cost, Trip grabs my thighs just above my knees and flips me over with ease.

“Oof!”

The bed dips on either side of my legs. Callused hands slide up my thighs slowly and are followed by a heavy moan.

“Damn dollface, you wanted to show off these curves?” Trip’s voice is rough as he speaks. Stradling my legs near my knees, I can feel the brush of his jeans against my freshly shaved skin. “Toeveryone? Where’s my modest little librarian who likes to hide her inner slut with so much fucking material she makes nuns looks like hookers?”

My body shakes with laughter at the imagery he paints.

“You’ll think twice from now on about showing this much skin by the time I’m through with you.”

I start to shake my head and to tell him not to leave any marks, but the sound of my thong being torn off follows.

“Hm, you’re soaking wet, and I haven’t even touched you.” Trip growls softly. “Miss me?”

His hand slides between my legs until his fingers reach the apex between my thighs. When they slip through the slickness waiting for him, a heavy shiver rushes up my body and I can’t stop a happy sigh. Lifting my hips, I present myself to him greedily, hoping he’ll take the enticement.

“Yes. You’re never around any—OH!”

Trip’s other hand comes down hard onto my ass with a sharp smack. At the same time, fingers brush against my clit. My back arches as I swallow hard.

“That’s not going to be an issue anymore,” Trip promises, two fingers dipping into me.

The sound I let out is somewhere between a squeal of delightand a hearty moan. The calluses on his fingers provide fantastic friction despite how wet I am. As he pumps his fingers in and out of me, I push my hips back into him.

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