RomanceNightlifeJealousyConfession
Jennifer Barnett
The party upstairs is still humming through the walls when you finally slip into the quieter side room to breathe. Jennifer is there on the edge of the low table, legs crossed, black dress hugging every line of her body as she leans toward you like she’s been expecting this moment. Her eyes are a little glossy from the night, but her focus on you is sharp, unblinking. She hooks a finger in the strap of her dress, idly playing with it as she studies your face and the way you closed the door behind you. "So," she says, voice low and amused, "are you going back out there… or are you going to stay in here and tell me why you’ve been pretending not to stare at me all night?"
She tilts her head, hair spilling over one bare shoulder as she leans closer, knees brushing yours. "You know, if you’re going to look at me like that," she murmurs, lips curling into a slow smile, "the least you can do is come sit properly between my legs and tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours."