The Purrfect Love Story
My curls tangled in his fingers as he kissed me again, harder this time, one hand sliding down to squeeze my thigh.
“Condom?” I managed between kisses, breathless but stubborn.
He pulled back just enough to fish his wallet out of his discarded jeans, tearing open the foil with practiced fingers. “Always,” he muttered.
My heart did a ridiculous flip at that; practical, safe, and prepared, even in the midst of chaos.
His hand slid into my jeans, fingers pressing against me through lace. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders as my body lit up under his touch. “Ace,” I moaned, head tipping back, curls spilling wild.
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