Clutch (Custom Culture)
“I had no shred of control left when it came to Taylor. The tacos that had sounded so good on the way to the taco stand had lost all their appeal once I’d tasted Taylor’s lips again. Now my hunger had an entirely different focus. I knew once I’d allowed myself the pleasure of touching her that I would not be able to stop wanting her and I’d been right.
My tires chirped as they hit the driveway at a ridiculous speed. I turned off the car, and we hurried inside. The house was hot and stuffy, b...ut opening windows would have taken too much time and effort.
I grabbed Taylor and held her arms tightly as I kissed her hard and deep. Her fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as if she needed to hold onto something to keep her balance. This time I was the one that needed to slow down, but it seemed impossible.
My hands moved to the buttons on her blouse. Her hands reached to the bottom of my shirt and we parted mouths just long enough for me to slide my t-shirt off over my head.MoreLess
My tires chirped as they hit the driveway at a ridiculous speed. I turned off the car, and we hurried inside. The house was hot and stuffy, b...ut opening windows would have taken too much time and effort.
I grabbed Taylor and held her arms tightly as I kissed her hard and deep. Her fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as if she needed to hold onto something to keep her balance. This time I was the one that needed to slow down, but it seemed impossible.
My hands moved to the buttons on her blouse. Her hands reached to the bottom of my shirt and we parted mouths just long enough for me to slide my t-shirt off over my head.MoreLess
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