“Would you beg me for it?” Claire goaded.
A tear rolled down Haley’s cheek and she reached up and
brushed it away. She met Claire’s eyes and nodded.
Claire could have left her. She could have laughed and made
it clear she was only toying with Haley. That she had no
intentions of doing anything of the sort past a kiss to prove a
point, but she couldn’t make herself leave. The sight of that
tear undid her, pulling at her like she was a snag on a line of
stitching until she was undone.
“Take your skirt off,” Claire commanded, buying herself
time, trying to get herself under control. She was breathing as
frantically as Haley.
She obeyed immediately, tearing the black garment away. It
was knee length, tasteful. Practical. Sometimes Haley wore
jeans, sometimes casual dresses, sometimes she liked to dress
up. That skirt was fucking hot. It was even hotter on the floor.
“Lean back against the bookshelf and spread your legs.”
Haley’s face turned scarlet, but she leaned back, her legs
spread. Not nearly enough. She was wearing flats. Claire
trailed her hand up Haley’s thigh and was rewarded with a
gasp. She could smell how wet Haley was. Her panties were
drenched, and fuck, she wanted to put them in her mouth and
suck that sweet moisture from the fabric before she tasted it
right from the source.
“Step out of your shoes. Kick them off.”
If they were heels, Claire would have let her keep them on.
Haley was obedient again, scrambling to lift her leg and arch
her foot and send the shoes flying. A scrap of lace covered her
at the juncture of her legs. Creamy flesh. Soft skin. The
softest. Claire trailed her fingers up Haley’s thigh. She
