Page 148 of Tricky Girls

She watches me carefully, shallowing her thrusts but keeping them fast. I suck in a breath, scrabbling around for a pillow to moan into. My pussy clenches, pleasure drenching me. Thank fuck for this pillow because I’mscreaming.I hear Elly gasp in response, almost a moan, her hips keeping up with that pulsing motion until my orgasm ebbs.

She drags the pillow from my face, kissing me deeply as one of her hands palms my neck. With agitated movements, she pulls off the strap and straddles me.

‘Let me sit on your face.’ She rolls her hips. ‘Fuck,please.’

There’s a wet patch on her boxers, so large and so evident that I falter. I knew she’d be wet,wantedher to be, but to be so suddenly presented with it has me speechless.

Like a lemon, I can only shake my head.

‘Alright.’ She kisses me reassuringly, though it’s clear she’s working hard to keep the disappointment from her face.

I rub my eyes. ‘Shit. Sorry. I bottled it.’

‘It’s fine, babe. I’m not Haz. I won’t push.’ With one last kiss, she climbs off me. ‘Could you please leave the room so I can take care of myself?’

I gather my clothes. I don’t know where Haz is at so I put them on before leaving. I close the door quietly, lingering there with my hand on the handle.

I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t listen.

I press closer to the door.

Is she touching herself already? Maybe using the dildo she just used on me?

When I hear footsteps on the landing, I’m too dazed to step away, to cover up what I’m doing, where I’ve just been.

I meet Nic’s eyes, the look in them telling me she knows exactly what’s going on.

I have no excuses, my mind still mush from that blinding orgasm and the two others before it.

We stare at each other, gazes unguarded in the quiet dim of the hallway.

She shakes her head. ‘Don’t fuck with her.’

CHAPTER 31

Tilda

A sudden wind whips off the ocean, shaking the trees surrounding the circle of green where the crypt sits. Squinting my eyes, I restrain my backcombed hair as best I can. My witch dress, shabby, lacy and charcoal grey, sticks to my legs like bin bags.

Shit, late winter on Hazelhurst Island is cold. Colder still when you’re not wearing a coat.

Despite the chill, I manage a smile when Haz whoops at the force of the wind that’s lashing hair into her face.

‘Blowing a fucking gale!’ she shouts, barely audible over the shrieking trees.

When the latest gust settles, I reposition myself for the shot, careful to keep the crypt’s creepy wolf statue visible. ThankGod the wind’s blowing the other way. It’s not so good for Haz though. I hear her growl as she fights to keep the camera’s viewfinder unobstructed. That’s usually Elly’s job but she’ll be editing this instead, that was the deal.

‘Come here.’ Turning her so she’s facing the wind, I gather her hair into a scrunchy, fingers falling through the thick, silky strands. It’s practical but my body also stirs at the sight of that jaw coming into focus, her face taking on a certain hardness. ‘There.’

‘Thanks, princess.’ She gingerly fingers the scrunchy. ‘Guess I’m the princess now.’

‘You look good.’

She smirks, pulling me to her. ‘I know.’ She runs her eyes over my costume. ‘Can’t get enough of you in this. Think the curse has got to me. I’m hot for a dead witch.’

I smile, holding my tongue. It’s on the tip of it to respond in kind. Even when we’re filming Haz’s scenes, she doesn’t need much in the way of costumes. Save for the scrubs, she can wear anything that’s masculine and contemporary, which accounts for pretty much her entire wardrobe. She always makes an effort though, rocking up in tweed jackets and open collar shirts. The rich tosser look suits her.

‘Well, nothing hot about this witch,’ I bite out between chattering teeth. ‘Might need that hot choccy soon.’

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