“Oh my gosh.” Her eyes clear, and as they do, her body turns from gooey limbs to tense muscles. “Oh my gosh! Get off me!”
I pull my hand from her panties and step back.
She’s every man’s hot dream as she stands against the stall with flushed cheeks and open legs. Her skirt is still high, and her chest rapidly lifts and falls.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a full minute, and when she thinks shit can’t get any worse for her, I bring my slicked hand up and slide my finger into my mouth.
I’m not sure she’s ever been so scandalized in her life.
Her mouth drops into a shockedO, her hand to her stomach as though she’s tempted to be sick.
But all I do is suck her flavor off my finger, then follow the trail of moisture over my palm and down to my wrist.
“You taste as good as you smell, Priss. And now you know what it feels like to relax for two seconds.”
“I want to vomit.” She genuinely turns a shade of green that hints at truth, but instead of dashing into the stall, she shoves her skirt down with jerking movements and fixes her top. “Oh my gosh, what did I just do?”
“You gave in to the very thing your body has been begging you for. You let nature and instinct take over for a minute, rather than your wildly spinning brain with all the overthinking and ‘what would my momma think?’”
“Oh my gosh. Shut up. Shut up!” She dashes across the bathroom and clutches the sides of the porcelain sink. Her back lifts and falls with sharp intakes of air. Her hair is a little messy, despite the fact I barely touched it. Her skin is flushed a dark red and matches her locks. “I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you just… Oh my gosh! I have to leave.”
I reach out and snag her wrist as she dashes toward the door, but she’s agile, and slips out of my hold with barely a stumble.
She swings the heavy door open so it bounces off the wall, and races past a watchful Laine, who waits against the opposite wall with her hands clasped behind her back.
The door swings closed again, and I’m all alone in the ladies bathroom with a dozen mirrors reflecting back at me.
“Fuck.”
Her horrified face plays in my mind. Her shame. Her embarrassment.
“Fuck!”
I move across the room and swing the door open to find Laine hasn’t moved. She watches me with lifted brows.
“What did you do to her, Spencer?”
“I wasn’t very nice. Fuck.”
I cast a glance along the wide hall, but I don’t see her. She’s run back to the safety of the reception, where she thinks hundreds of people will keep me away and ensure I’m on my best behavior.
“I took something from her, and when I was done, I was kind of crass about it.”
I stop beside Laine and lean against the wall so we stand shoulder to shoulder. Abigail’s sad eyes continue to play through my brain like a bad movie on repeat, but I have just enough brain power set aside to notice that Laine doesn’t shoot away just because our arms touch.
She’s grown so much since Angelo took over and helped her heal, that not only does she not cry and shy away, but she purses her lips and shakes her head.
“You’re a dumb shit, Spence. Seriously, so damn stupid. How can you not see she’s vulnerable? She needs gentleness, not to feel the shame I saw in her eyes when she ran outta there.”
“Why didn’t you follow her?” I turn and look down into blue eyes that remind me of the Caribbean ocean.
“Because she told me not to, and since I already knew you took something from her, I didn’t want to disrespect her wishes.”
“I’ll fix it.” I push away from the wall with a sigh, and head back toward the reception.
Laine hurries to catch up to my long strides. She’s in heels, and has a hell of a lot less leg than I do.
“You don’t have to supervise, Twink. I said I’ll fix it.”