Page 98 of Green Flag
I tried to continue scrolling through my phone, instead of daydreaming about what it would be like to suffocate between her tits, but she stood at the end of the bed and threw the pillow closest to her at my head.
“I will be putting my cold feet on you,” she said with decisive nods. “So we don’t need these at the bottom. Pelvis up, we need.”
My brow rose.
“I know what your cock is like,” she said and I choked on air, having to sit up and slam my fist into my chest.
“You get erections when the wind blows,” she laughed.
When it blew her scent back to me, yes. But that was a new development.
“There, there,” she said and came to stroke my back as I wheezed. “I know I take men’s breath away.”
That was not helping. I spluttered, still ramming my fist into my ribs.
Her touch was soothing and warm. Maybe I should keep choking so she continued. Maybe I’d keep going so she’d stay here in that little red dress.
When I could finally breathe again, she sat at the desk and did her hair and make-up, trying to teach me how to curl her hair, to no avail.
And when she stood and put on her shoes, I wanted to come on the booze cruise with her.
I knew it was a grid girl event, but they wouldn’t say no to me gatecrashing, right?
She rifled through her bag, listing off what she had, including her taser, good girl.
“Bye,” she went to call, but I stopped her. I quickly stood at the door and shoved it closed.
What was I doing?
Because I’d been pissed she wasn’t going to kiss me goodbye.
Fuck.
“A coat, Everly?”
She shrugged and looked down at herself. “I don’t have one that goes.”
“Take mine,” I said. The red of her dress would go with the Ciclati jacket.
Her head shook. “I’m not wearing your clothes! Especially not work clothes, Luca.”
She’d spent about an hour unpacking her bag, but I hadn’t even started on mine. I threw open my suitcase and rummaged around in it to her frown.
“What are you—”
“Aha!” I cried and pulled out the small box. “The tights I owed you. I kept forgetting to give them to you.”
Her frown deepened. “Huh?”
“Well, a couple of months ago…” I swallowed at the memory of that night. “I ruined your tights.”
She held the box in her hand, her gaze slowly lifting to look at me. A rosy blush appeared on her cheeks as she breathed in and out. Once. Twice. “This is… so nice, Luca.”
“It wasn’t very nice of me when I ripped them off you,” I told her with a little awkward laugh.
“It was nice,” she said quietly, looking back down at the tights.
Thankfully, my swallow was silent.
