Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

“She was better than I’d dreamed,” she tells me against my cheek.
“Nothing could tear me away from her.”
Nothing. How hard it would’ve been to stop if she’d asked me to in the
hotel room. I would’ve, but it would’ve been painful. There was no music.
We weren’t alone. We didn’t plan it, and we were both disheveled. Nothing
went according to her idea of perfection, because you realize everything you
end up wanting is the last thing you expected.
But it was perfect. God, it was good.
“I’d dreamed of her a lot before we did it,” she says. “Sometimes I’d lock
my door at night and take off my clothes.”
A jolt hits me down low. While she was busy hating me, she was
fantasizing about me, too.
She settles her head on my shoulder, her lips tickling my neck. “I wanted
to feel my sheets on my skin like I would if I were in bed with her.”
Like now. My brothers’ laughter carries up the stairs, and I wish I was
alone in the house with her, because I’m tired of worrying about being
interrupted or caught.
But I can already feel her growing heavy on me, her speech getting
sleepy, and we have school tomorrow.
“Did you dream about me holding you like this?” I ask her.
She nods. “Except in the dream, you’re the boss, and I’m your assistant
and we’re going to New York on a business trip for the weekend. It was kind
of hot for you to abuse your authority on me in bed when I simply bring you
papers to sign to your room that night, but then…”
“Yes?”
She holds her breath for a moment and then sighs heavily. “I was in a
turtleneck on the plane.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“A black one,” she spits out. “Me. In a black turtleneck. And you made
me style my hair in a ponytail like Ariana Grande, and you know I don’t look
good with my hair pulled away from my face. It was awful.”
I laugh, holding her close and shaking. I feel her smile on my neck.
Threading my fingers through her hair, I pull her lips up to mine. “I like
ponytails,” I tell her, layering our lips. “I need a good handle on you.”
She shivers, and we kiss, going in for more and more. Visions of
wrapping her hair around my fist, her on her hands and knees… My stomach
swims.