Lying And Kissing
“The music swelled and ebbed as the ballerinas jumped and floated, weightless as ghosts.
And I couldn’t concentrate on any of it because of what Luka was doing under my skirt.
“Someone will see!” I told him in a harsh whisper.
He smirked, as if that amused him. His fingers pressed a little more insistently and I groaned under my breath. And parted my thighs.
We were in a private box. A box the Malakov family actually owned, that sat empty between performances no matter how full t...he theater was. Apparently, Luka’s dad, Vasiliy, used to take his mother here when she was alive. Now, it was used by Luka and his current girlfriend.
And now that was me. Not another willowy Russian model with laser-straight blonde hair, but a pale, awkward girl with hair you might charitably call chestnut and a body that was too heavy on the hips to be slender, but not curvy enough to catch a man’s eye.MoreLess
And I couldn’t concentrate on any of it because of what Luka was doing under my skirt.
“Someone will see!” I told him in a harsh whisper.
He smirked, as if that amused him. His fingers pressed a little more insistently and I groaned under my breath. And parted my thighs.
We were in a private box. A box the Malakov family actually owned, that sat empty between performances no matter how full t...he theater was. Apparently, Luka’s dad, Vasiliy, used to take his mother here when she was alive. Now, it was used by Luka and his current girlfriend.
And now that was me. Not another willowy Russian model with laser-straight blonde hair, but a pale, awkward girl with hair you might charitably call chestnut and a body that was too heavy on the hips to be slender, but not curvy enough to catch a man’s eye.MoreLess
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