DISCLAIMER: Bad Girls and its characters are the property of Shed Productions.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By trancer


Helen leaned against the door, keys mere millimeters from the lock; the only obstacle between her and the person on the other side - the mere flick of her wrist.

"Why do you have to make it so hard, Nikki?"

Nikki could hear the exasperation in her voice, the longing, the frustration. And she didn't care. Didn't care about decorum, or rules, or anything but having Helen near, without the barrier of an inch thick steel door, or prying eyes. Like a dog with a bone, she'd had a taste of Heaven and, now, didn't want to let go. Wouldn't let go. Not when it was so near she could taste it on her lips.

"Open the door, Helen."

"Nikki," she exhaled in a frustrated sigh.

"I want to kiss you," she purred in a low quiet voice. So low Helen had to strain to hear. "On that spot behind your ear as my hands caress the small of your back. Move my lips across your throat, feel you moan against my tongue."

Helen Stewart wanted a lot of things. Right now, Helen wanted to scratch the itch crawling up and down her spine, twisting around the pit of her stomach and tingling the inside of her thighs. An itch that had a name, a face; a touch she shouldn't have known, a taste still lingering on her tongue.

She turned the key.

She wanted no more.

The End

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