Page 67 of Bite
“Now it’s my turn,” I say, voice dropping an octave as I turn the tables on her. “How did you two meet?”
“Don’t you already know?” Bex replies with a sweet smile that’s anything but. “We’ve been partners in crime our whole lives.”
“You mean the arrest for shoplifting?” I ask mildly. “Or was it the drunk and disorderly charge at the bar in Midtown?”
She barks a laugh of genuine surprise. “Oh, you’ve done your homework.” Bex turns to Taylor, green eyes gleaming. “Told you the supervillain types always do.”
Taylor just rolls her eyes while Bex cackles and sips her drink.
“So,” I prompt again, patient but pointed, “how did you two meet?”
Bex leans back, folding her arms. “A group home, originally. We were both the weird kids with night terrors, which meanteveryone hated us equally. So we stuck together. We both bounced around a lot, but we kept finding our way back to each other.”
“Impressive that you were able to maintain contact in such an unstable environment,” I remark, knowing exactly how many times their paths intertwined from Taylor’s juvenile record.
She shrugs. “More or less. Guess our friendship was just meant to be.”
I nod, filing away every detail. “Taylor hasn’t mentioned much about her past.”
“There’s not much to say,” Bex scoffs. “It sucked, but we survived.”
“I think we can leave it at that,” Taylor mutters, shooting Bex a warning look.
Interesting.
I let the silence settle, watching the tension coil in Taylor’s jaw, feeling the restless bounce of her knee beneath the table. As much as I want to keep prying for information, I don’t want to spook her.
And she’s so damntempting.
My eyes skim over her face, tracing every delicate feature– the curve of her plush lips, the little dip of her cupid’s bow. The way her thick dark lashes fan over her cheeks when she blinks. I slide my hand higher along her thigh, fingertips brushing the apex through the thin barrier of her tights.
The muscle in her jaw flickers, and for a second I think she might resist. Instead, she shifts under my hand, thighs parting just enough to invite me further. I delve deeper under her dress, knuckles tracing the center seam of her tights until she squirms, fingers tightening on the edge of the table.
Bex clocks the shift in her friend’s demeanor, eyes darting from me to Taylor and back. She grins, sharp and knowing, but says nothing.
I wonder if she knows how much her friend enjoys an audience?
My gaze locks with Taylor’s again, thumb tracing circles against the inside of her thigh as my knuckle rubs deliberately along the nylon seam, right over her clit.
“Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?” I murmur, her breath going shallow as she struggles to maintain her composure. She bites down hard on her bottom lip as I lean in, mouth close to her ear. “Good enough to eat.”
A little whine slips from her throat, unbidden. Her eyes widen on mine, then dart toward Bex, mortified.
Bex just laughs, draining her glass and sliding it onto the table. “I’ve gotta get going, I’m due at the tattoo shop in an hour,” she says casually, pointing a finger at Taylor. “But you owe me another shopping trip next week as proof of life.”
Taylor rolls her eyes and waves her off, but the exchange is all snarky affection.
Bex slides out of the booth, gathering her shopping bags before cutting me a glare. “If you murder her, I’ll stake your ass,” she warns.
The corner of my mouth ticks up. “I’d love to see you try.”
Bex heads for the door, and silence folds around us. Taylor’s leg stays pressed to mine, my hand still moving lazily between her thighs under the table. I don’t pull away, and she doesn’t ask me to.
After a beat, she turns, searching my face. “Are you mad at me?” she asks softly.
I cock a brow. “Should I be?”
“I left without telling you. The staff seemed to think you should’ve been informed.”
