Hot Day

Angel Hot's skin sticks to her. Sweat trails down her spine. She reaches for the shower, then stops when she catches George staring, hunger thick in his eyes. She lets him watch. Lets the moment stretch until his breath turns ragged and his hands twitch on his thighs. Only then does she move toward him, slow and deliberate, and the air between them snaps tight. George stands fast, greedy now. He grabs her, mouth on her neck, hands sliding lower until he has her pinned, legs spread, taking every inch he can fit inside her. The heat she wanted to wash away is all over them, slick and urgent. She keeps her thighs wide for him, soft cries spilling when he pushes deeper, until he groans and empties himself, thick and hot, right where she wanted.