Miranda straddled Jeff properly and flung her hair behind her head. Her small breasts bounced. She leaned down on Jeff, kissing him as he rubbed her back. She kissed his lips, his chin, his neck: nibbling—playfully—at his salty skin. She slid her hand under the hem of Jeff’s shirt and raked his stomach muscles. He shuddered.
Read alsoThe Table Of Less Valued Knights
Longlisted for the 2015 Baileys Women's Prize for FictionSir Humphrey du Val of the Table of Less Valued Knights – Camelot's least prestigious table, with one leg shorter than the others so that it has to be propped up with a folded napkin – doesn't do quests ... until he meets Elaine, a damsel in distress with a secret to hide.Meanwhile,…
As this was happening, Chad placed his hand on Clara’s bluejeaned leg. He moved it up and down, slowly, but higher, and higher, toward where the legs of her jeans met. She did not stop him.
She was warm through the fabric. Smouldering.
Miranda lashed her body on top of Jeff, moving more sinuously than she ever had before. She pulled off his shirt and threw it behind the couch. His naked chest was a marvel of hard lines. The light from the television grew shadows between the deep creases of his abs.
Miranda moved from his lap and got down on her knees before him. “Olivia,” she said, and apparently did not need to say more. Olivia leaned over and kissed Jeff, deeply and passionately, while Miranda unzipped his fly...