100 Nights of Forbidden Fire
Kayla’s tongue slipped inside.
A whimper escaped Susan, lost in the depths of the kiss. Her hands, still clutching the rosary, dropped to her sides, the beads forgotten. She tangled her fingers in Kayla’s leather jacket, holding on as if to a lifeline in a storm. Kayla’s hand, no longer gentle, slid down Susan’s back, pressing her closer until their bodies were flush. Susan felt the hard plane of Kayla’s stomach against her own, the solid muscle of her thighs.