Gateway
Rush hour.
Even worse now than it’ll be this evening. I swerve, dumbstruck, a near miss
for the car behind me. It can’t be! He’s…he’s…
Pull it together, girl. I manage to pull over despite the
hissing and screaming. My knees are rubberbands, every hair on my body electrified, muscles
clenching, imaginary tazers beelining for my clit. How?
“Gateway?”
He smiles,
knowingly. Well, more of a smirk, the same cold eyes, and slides the heavy chain
around his hunky shoulders.
I can hardly
walk, my body quivering, pulsing, threatening to explode. “Answer me, dammit! Gateway?”
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~Decadent