Pregnant For The Bully
I led her to my bed and turned the lights off.
"Are you okay? Have you been crying?" I asked, cupping her cheeks. Her hands touched my chest but I clapsed it in my large hands. They cold, I rubbed my hands against hers trying to make her feel warm.
Juliet's death came as a shock to everyone, because no one could fathom why she would stab herself with a broken glass.
"You should be asleep." I whispered to Mary.
"Please," She begged, shifting closer to me. I felt hot immediately, without thinking my mouth crushed on hers, consuming the echo of the word. Hard and rough, not in anyway gentle. It was pure need. She shoved her fingers through my hair, fisting it into her hands.