My Pretty Dirty Kitten
The food on the table suddenly smells faintly gross as the speed increases, making my thoughts jumble.
Kevin tilts his head, frowning. “Pop? Oldies? That’s… actually really cool. I didn’t expect—”
I clamp my legs again, cheeks heating. The vibration switches pattern, slow and then fast and back to being fast, I try to answer honestly, my voice quivering. “Yeah… pop. Oldies. Depends.”
God, Tamer.
He smiles, oblivious to the storm raging in my lap. “Okay. What about movies? Action? Romance? Horror?”