Page 37 of Flat Out
“You’re wearing a blazer in the middle of summer,” Marco pointed out, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Actually, you good, Dubois?”
“No shirt underneath,” she replied, as if that was even a helpful answer at all, and wrapped both her hands around her water glass. She sipped through a straw, sucking down half of it as if it could cool her down.
I wanted to laugh. There was nocooling downbetween us. There never had been, and there never would be. We only burned for each other.
Sake arrived in tiny ceramic cups. Marco poured for everyone and toasted to something that sounded vaguely like “chaos and coochie.” None of us bothered correcting him.
Aurélie gave a teeth-baring smile. “You know, Kimi, I have photographic evidence that supports the theory that Finns like to fuck their siblings. Shall I pull it up?”
Kimi blinked. “Wait, really?”
"No, you idiot, she's just fucking with you because she's a feral gremlin tonight." Marco snickered, toying with his napkin like a child. The grin on his face was nothing shy of mischievous.
“She’s French,” I said lazily. “She’s always a feral gremlin.”
“And flushed,” Marco added. "Should we be worried about her?"
“She said she's hot,” I answered for her, dragging my middle finger along the seam of lace, then in a firm circle over her clit. She squeezed her thighs together like that would keep me away from her cunt for long.
I withdrew my hand once our sushi was delivered, only so we could eat. She relaxed at the reprieve.
Marco raised a brow. “Yousureyou’re okay, Dubois? Do you need some space from this asshole?” He hitched a thumb at me.
“I’m amazing,” she said, fanning herself again.
“And twitchy,” Kimi muttered.
“She’sFrench,” I said again, smirking as I offered her a piece of nigiri with my chopsticks. “She’s always twitchy.” She hesitated, then leaned in and took the sushi. My fingers, glistening with her arousal, ghosted over her lips as she pulled it into her mouth. Then, deliberately—because she knew what I was doing—she licked her lips. Right where my fingertips had just been.
I almost fucking groaned. I needed to be inside her.
Leaning close, I brushed her ear with my mouth. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” I murmured. “Goingto sit there, dripping, while I finger-fuck you with nothing but friction?”
Her breathing hitched. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. Marco and Kimi were deep in some idiotic debate about mochi versus gelato. She looked like she might start breaking apart. I reached beneath the table discreetly and dragged the lace tighter again. She whimpered. It was barely audible, but I heard it.
“Something wrong?” I asked sweetly.
“No. Yes. I mean, I—I’m fine.”
“You sure?” I purred. “You’re starting to sweat, mon amour."
“Probably just coming down with something,” she bit out. Then added under her breath, “Je suis tellement fatiguée, je peux à peine penser dans une langue, encore moins deux?—”
I'm so tired, I can barely think in one language, let alone two?—
Marco blinked. “What?”
“She’s tired,” I translated. “Running too hot. Having a hard time thinking in two languages.”
“Right,” Kimi said, deadpan. Then, sarcastically, "Because that's always been a problem for her."
I knew better. Iknewthat look in her eye. The way her mind was slipping, sliding between languages, barely able to think. I’d put her there. And I’d do it again, and again, and again.
I leaned closer. “Finish your sake,” I whispered. “And I promise I won't make you suffer too much longer. I'll make you come, with my mouth, with my fingers. Maybe both if you behave.” Her legs snapped shut so hard it rocked the table.
Kimi grabbed his water glass before it could fall over. “Aurélie. Are yousureyou're good? You've had a rough week.”
“I said I'mfine,” she snapped, voice strangled and irritated. The tips of her ears were red.
