Standing behind her, he unpinned her hair and swept it to one side, taking his time, kissing her shoulders while he fiddled with the clasp on her necklace. Just as she noted how unusually gentle he was being, his fingers found the roots of her hair and he slammed her up against the door. With her cheek on the wood and her hands behind her back she could only roll her eyes, feeling a strange combination of relief and disbelief that this was happening again.
He said, right into her ear, “You look nice this evening.” She said, “You’re a terrible liar,” but she was secretly thrilled to have bumped into him while she was in a dress and lipstick. He’d only ever seen her dressed down in jeans and a shirt. Or wearing nothing but her socks.
She had always believed herself to be the queen of Holding It…
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