Falling For The Enemy
Lindsayfalling for the enemyfalling for friendthe irresistible urge to fall for your enemyfalling for u
“My god, you weigh eight hundred pounds.”
“My size isn’t the insult you think it is,” I mumble. She huffs a laugh as I rise on unsteady feet.
“Clothes off,” she orders.
“But then I have to open my eyes,” I protest. But I open them anyway, to see a pink-cheeked and annoyed Lilly who has shed her sweatshirt and is wearing something she must consider clothes but I consider a mere scrap of fabric. Her nipples are visible through the silk, and I want to suck on them.