Page 112 of Hide and Keep

Once again, she removes the hat from my head.

“Hey—”

“You have to be able to see what you’re doing.”

“I can see just fine with it.”

She tucks my hat in her bag.

Whatever. What-fucking-ever. It’s not like we’re at a fucking festival or anything.

“Just…tell me what I need to do.”

“First, take the bow out so you can see what you’re doing.”

I pull the bow off, causing a horrible hiss from Ever as she jerks away from me.

“What? I did what you said.”

“Not like that. You have to be careful, Crue.”

She spends so much time calling me Major, I forget how much I like her saying my real name.

“Sorry, miss.”

I pick up a muttered, “Annoying,” that I ignore. It’s not my fault her instructions were vague.

She walks me through what pieces of hair to move and where to move them. My fingers are bigger than hers and not nearly as skilled—at doing hair—so some maneuvers take several tries. Only needing the front part of her hair pinned in some sort of bump, I pick the bow back up.

“All right, explainexactlywhat to do with this.”

“Bend over.”

My eyebrows crash into each other. What?

“Pull down your pants.”

My pants?

“And shove it up your—”

“Ever.”

Her laugh hits my ears, tickling them, but I’m already shaking my head, trying to clear it all away.Little shit.

She tells me how to attach the bow, this time accurately.

Her head gets a little wobbly when I’m straightening it, so I grip where her neck meets her shoulder to steady her and next thing I know I’m sinking into her from behind, my lips against her ear, groaning how good she feels as I bottom out in her hot, wet cunt.

My balls aching, I curl my fingers around her collarbone and massage the back of her neck with my thumb as I debate what to do.

If I push, I can watch myself withdraw from her, those globes on full display as I drive into her over and over again, every inch of me gliding along every inch of her. But if I pull, I can feel her toned back tense against my front as I pump into her with short thrusts that keep me buried to the hilt as flames creep up my spine.

Decisions, decisions.

A real groan makes its way out of my throat as my feet shuffle forward.

“Did the hairband break?”

---