One of the demons slams his fists into the dirt. Another claws at his own chest. Heidi looks away in pain, jaw tight. She hates herself for the relief blooming in her chest when there are others
Movement flickers at the edge of her vision which signals the presence of the said jackasees. Morgan and Grayson step out of their treehouse like twin shadows, identical in posture yet somehow radiating opposite kinds of arrogance. Morgan's hair is disheveled, his shirt is half-buttoned as though he couldn't care less. Grayson, sharp-eyed, takes in the scene with that calculating gaze of his that Heidi's learned to both despise and respect.
The images of their unending threesomes for the past three days flash across her field of vision. The touches, the thrusting… oh, the pouncing, the sheer pressure of it, and how much pleasure it drives into her.
OH…
Oh, shit. She's doing it again! This isn't the time for sinful thoughts.
