Page 97 of Summer Breakdown

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“Use me how you want me.” Jasmine licks her once. “But only if you come on my tongue.”

Frankie groans, and the last bit of restraint she has goes out the window with the tapping of Jasmine’s fingertips. Shedrops her tongue down, and Frankie moves her just slightly, light movements until Jasmine moans, pulling her closer. She slides two fingers deep into Frankie’s cunt, and every part of her body tenses.

It’s no use. The slow and steady will never win out. Frankie’s hand is fisted in Jasmine’s hair, thrusting against her. She’s not sure Jasmine can breathe, but she holds Frankie’s thigh tight as she moans. The vibrations hit her clit, and Frankie wants it all. Her hands, her tongue, her voice. Jasmine pulls her closer, Frankie’s thigh against her shoulder, her fingers digging into her. Spreading her wide, like she needs to be buried in her.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters. “Fuck.Please.“ Jasmine looks up at her, the apples of her cheeks lifting in a smile Frankie can’t see because her tongue is in her cunt. Frankie clenches as she comes brightly, loudly. She finally understands the meaning of angels singing. The office got brighter, louder, more heavenly the moment Jasmine touched her. Frankie gets it now—the reason her mum forced her to church. This was what she was missing. It wasn’t religion, or a God she couldn’t touch. It was Jasmine. The all-consuming, encompassing, do-anything-for kind of love that’s always been inside her.

She was just waiting for Jasmine.

“You okay?” Jasmine asks as she stands, wiping her mouth against her arm. It’s not enough. She’s covered in Frankie.

I think I might love you.

“Holy fuck,” Frankie whispers. She never thought she’d be capable of loving someone like this, but even if she denied it, it would be true. Still, she can’t tell her that while her bare pussy touches her desk. “Do you think this desk will hold both of us?”

Jasmine frowns. “Why?”

“Because I want you to sit on my face and not get carpet burns.”

She smiles brightly. “You’re so romantic,” she says, with a laugh. “Have you never fucked someone in here before?”

“Only you.”

Jasmine raises her eyebrows. “Just me?”

Frankie smiles, pulling her closer. She should put her shorts on, because she’s still touching her desk and it’s not hot anymore. There’s no sinking feeling in her chest Frankie has had before when she had sex, but she probably should have gone home instead. It’s just a little wet. Frankie pulls some wipes out of her drawer and cleans Jasmine’s face.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to see outside of Carl’s. You’re the only one that makes me happy,” Frankie says. She kisses her once. “God, you’re all I think about.”

Jasmine hums, leaning against her slightly. “I should get home,” she says. She passes Frankie her shorts. “Come with me?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“There’slessthanhalfthe season left,” Frankie mumbles, moving her pen against the paper. She draws the team out for Jasmine because Jasmine’s a visual learner and Frankie is the best thing to happen in a long time. “We could still get relegated.”

Jasmine rolls her eyes, putting her own pen to paper. Frankie bought her a maths quiz book just because. She saw it when she was shopping with Cam, and she thought Jasmine would like it. She bought Lani a dress too, and Marcel some slides. They’re hidden in the boot of her car, and Jasmine is wondering when she’ll mention it.

“You’re in third,” Jasmine says.

“Third doesn’t get promoted.”

“It doesn’t get relegated either.”

Frankie humphs as she puts her paper on the bedside table. She didn’t show Jasmine, so it can’t have been good. Jasmine won’t peek, though, because she’s so ridiculously horny she might combust. Frankie lies down with her with her fucking arms behind her head like she enjoys making Jasmine sweat. Frankie was all over her when they were walking home, but then they had dinner, and Lani wanted to watch a movie, and Marcel chilled with them in the living room for a while. So now, it’s been hours since Jasmine made Frankie come in her office, and she’s been wet ever since.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten a gift since I was an adult,” Jasmine says, as she turns the first page. She’s not making the first move.

“What?” Frankie asks, spinning on her side. It’s worse now. The duvet is pulled up on Jasmine’s bent knees, so it slides away from Frankie. Her top is caught on her waist, and she’s in booty shorts, and Jasmine must look away. “What do you mean?”

Jasmine shrugs. She used to be sad about it, but she’s not anymore. “I didn’t really have friends, and Marcel and Lani were too young to know what my birthday was. They made me things at school for Mother’s Day. So, I did get gifts.”

“What about your parents? Or Christmas?” Frankie asks, but she twists so the side of her face rests against Jasmine’s upper arm and the backs of her thighs are in view. How is Jasmine supposed to concentrate?

“My parents got me a load of stuff for Marcel when he was a baby,” she replies, chancing a look at Frankie. Jasmine rubs her thighs together slightly. She might have to get herself off in the shower. “You know Marc and Lan don’t have jobs, right?”

“Yeah, but you were in a relationship.” Her voice is soft, and when Jasmine looks over, Frankie is pouting at her sheets. She’s so cute. “For years. He didn’t get them anything to give you?”

Jasmine hums as she fills some questions in. “We were strangers that shared children. I’d be surprised if he knew when my birthday was. To be fair, we were broke until Marcel was, like, five, so he probably didn’t know we could do that.”