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Her lips crash against mine, her hands tangling in my long hair, with a bite of pain I find that I quite enjoy.
My tongue sweeps against hers without hesitation, and the rumble of a moan escapes her chest and slides inside of me, arrowing straight below the belt.
I should probably stop. This isn’t the place for this, but my body and brain somehow aren’t connected.
“How many news outlets do you think would show up if the police chief is arrested for lewd behavior in public?”
Adalynn smiles against my mouth at the sound of Madison’s voice.
“We aren’t being lewd,” I argue, my eyes still on my girl.
Adalynn, as if to prove the point, rolls her hips against mine, her lower belly scraping against the erection forming in my jeans.
“Jesus, I need you,” I mutter, my hand cupping the side of her face.
She chews the inside of her cheek as if trying to decide what to do.
“Not here, obviously,” I mutter, clearing my throat as I take a step back.
“I went ahead and bought this for you,” Madison says as she steps closer.
Instead of handing the small bag to Adalynn, she hands it to me.
“So you can umm, hide that whole situation,” she says, waving her hand at my crotch, making it obvious to anyone watching just what the hell she’s talking about.
Adalynn’s face flashes cherry red, her cheeks heating with embarrassment as her eyes dart around.
Most of the businesses here have massive, inviting, glass-paned windows, making it easy for everyone who looks out of them to see us.
Instead of looking over at her friend, Adalynn keeps her eyes on me.
“I always said I didn’t like PDA because I was trying to tell you that it would be okay for you to kiss me in private.”
I tilt my head to the side.
“But you’re not very quick on the uptake,” Madison adds.
“How long?” I ask, trying not to get upset. “How long have you felt this way about me?”
Her cheeks turn redder.
“Adalynn,” I say, a warning in my tone as I lick my lips.
Her eyes drop there, and it’s like we’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and there’s a glint of mischievousness in hereyes right out here, on the sidewalk, in the middle of town with witnesses abound.
“For a while,” she confesses.
“Years,” Madison clarifies. “She was writing Mrs. Cash Tucker in her diary in junior high.”
“You were doing the same with Chase,” she snaps, as if they’re both back in school and tattling on each other.
“And look at us now,” Madison says, her hand cradling the small roundness of her belly. “Pregnant by our teenage obsessions.”
My heart skips a beat as I look at Adalynn. This time, the chewing of her lower lip is a nervous response, not one filled with timidness or arousal.
“Ads?”
She swallows, her throat working with the effort of it before she speaks, but she doesn’t direct her attention back to me.
