It was Quinn's day to do laundry, and she failed.
His eyes rake over me and I feel them as his stare sets on my breasts.
Clearing my throat, I cross my arms trying to cover the rips across the mounds of my breasts.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, lust obvious in my tone. His plump lips slip into a nervous smile. One hand on the doorframe, the other rubbing the back of his neck back and forth.
"We need to talk, and I was hoping Quinn would know where I could reach you." He lifts his head, glances at Quinn, who is smiling like the damn Joker. She's having too much fun with this.
"And lucky him, I knew exactly where to find you!" Quinn beams, her thumb hitched over her shoulder. I glare at her. I want to titty punch her right now. I want someone to record it in one of those slow motion
