Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

But the tears keep coming, no matter how I try to hold my breath to stifle
the crying.
“All right, I’m gonna shave her head,” she says. “Where can I find her?”
I break into a laugh through the sobs, wiping my eyes. But when I look at
her, she’s lifted her head off the pillow, and while I can’t make out her whole
expression, she’s not joking.
“Seriously,” she says, pushing me onto my back and climbing on top of
me. “You’re under my protection now and I get shit done. Want her fired?
Arrested? Her car repossessed?”
I smile, no more tears stinging as I slip my hands under her shirt—my T-
shirt—and caress the fucking amazing skin on her smooth stomach.
“Porta-potty shit dumped on her lawn, maybe?” she goes on. “I know a
guy.”
I snort, almost able to see her waggling her eyebrows with mischief. She
wears my black “Headlines don’t sell papes. Newsies sell papes.” theater T-
shirt, the sleeves cut off and the sides cut out. I pull my hands out from under
and slip them under the arms, her bare breasts so easily accessible.
It takes no time at all for my body to stir.
“Tell me about your first time,” I tease, breathless, as her nipples turn
rock hard under my fingers.
I’m not sure if the locker room, the shower, or the hotel constitutes our
first time, but I damn-well know it was me.
She pulls my black top hat, a relic from the discard pile when we sorted
old costumes last year for donations, from my bedpost and fits it on top of her
head. Underwear, T-shirt, freshly fucked hair falling down her body…God,
she’s hot.
She drags her fingertips down my body, playing. “Well, I always thought
it would be a huge endeavor,” she sighs. “I’d know exactly when it was going
to happen. I’d be in total control, planning out every detail.” And she lists on
her fingers, “The location. The music. Protection. Looking my best. I’d do
everything I could to make it perfect.”
I can imagine she even had an outfit picked out. Clay’s a micro-manager.
“But the perfect moment found me, instead.” Her voice softens, serious.
“And I couldn’t stop it.”
I scale my hands underneath her arms, and we meet, her coming down
and me rising up until her arms are wrapped around me and we crash to the
bed. The hat tumbles off her head.