Sadie
Deke’s big hands grip my head, holding me still for his kiss. He backs me against the wall and presses himself against me. And I feel him—all of him. Either there’s a giant gun in his pants, or he’s excited to see me.
My p***y spasms. “Yes,” I breathe.
He kisses down my neck, his right hand still gripping my hair. He tugs me into position, taking control. His other hand finds the edge of my cute little dress and starts to draw it upwards.
And then I realize I’ve made a mistake.
“Wait,” I gasp although I hate to slow him down.
“Not waiting,” Deke growls. “You want this.”
“No, not that, I do want you, but this dress...it’s pretty tight and…” I trail off, wishing I didn’t have to explain. “I’m wearing...shapewear.”
His brows knit together, and he slips his hands under my dress,
