Pushing Limits (Fighting Love #1) - kali cross Page 0,20
She smiles as she walks over to Sally and locks her into an intense kiss, a total tonsil hockey match, grabbing her breast for good measure. “Uh, I better go get dressed.”
Sally calls back, “Get ready. I’ll pick something out for you to wear.”
“I can dress myself, thank you.”
I close the door. The bathroom is steamed up, and the mirror is fogged except for two single hand prints. Rolling my eyes, I turn the water on, stepping in. Thank God, there is still some hot water. The water cascades down, warming my body. Images of Tommy flash into my head. My nipples pearl from the contact with the water. As I spread soap over my tits, my body starts to respond. Shit, I guess it has been a while. I’m tempted to take some ‘me’ time, but I only have an hour. Less than that now. I hope I don’t smell like a brewery. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten that drunk.
Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and slip on my robe. I brush my teeth twice to get that lovely sweater tongue feeling out of my mouth. I dry and spike my hair, throw on my usual makeup, and walk out to see what Sally has picked out, ready to totally reject it.
Tracy asks, “Can I pop in here again?”
“Sure.” I smile, turning to Sally.
“Ok, love the hair.” She muses, “Hmm, a bit too much eye makeup for ten o’clock in the morning on a Saturday.” She walks into the bathroom to grab a tissue.
“But, I like it this way,” I grumble.
She swipes a bit from around both my eyes. “Perfect. I checked out your clothes and pulled some stuff.”
I look down at the bed. She didn’t do half bad. I’ll still look like me…but dressier. She had a blue tank, along with a short pleated flirty mini skirt in cream that I never bothered to wear. My mom bought it and I have an innate aversion to anything my mom picks out, even if I do kinda like it. “A skirt?” I lift the material and look at Sally.
“Yes, honey. A skirt. You do wear skirts don’t you?”
“Yeah, but not for a while. They’re so girlie.”
“That’s why I balanced it with a tank and your combat boots. You can feel like you and still look like a girl. You wear shorts so I know you don’t have a problem showing some leg. You will have boy shorts on underneath. So, what’s the big deal? Hate to break it to you, honey. But, you’re a girl. Act like it.”
“Ok, ok!” I smirk, running my hand down the skirt.
“I found these buckle and dog collar necklaces you can wear as bracelets if you wrap them around. “
“Cool.” Grabbing the clothes and some boy shorts and a bra from my drawer, I start to carry them into the bathroom, turning and remembering Tracy is in it.
“Seriously, where are you going?”
“The bathroom to get dressed, as soon as Tracy is done.”
“Right. We’re both girls. You don’t have anything I don’t have.”
“I’m not getting naked in front of you. No offense, but I just met you last night,” I say, my mouth presses into a thin line as I stand my ground.
“Ok, I get it. But, I’m not going to room with someone who thinks I do nothing but check her out.” Tracy comes out of the bathroom and I scurry in. Sally calls through the door. “Amber – no bra with that top - you’ll see every bunch and bump. It has a bra inside anyway.”
“Whatever!” I laugh as I dress. I survey the look in the mirror. I like what she put together. It’s more girlie than I usually go. I’m not much of a fashionista chick. I get confused and usually opt for jeans, boots, and a t-shirt.
I walk out to be critiqued, and I get a slow whistle instead. “Honey, you look hot. I love that short skirt! It moves with your walk and calls attention to your ass.” She lifts the sides, watching it lilt down. Turning me to face her, she lifts my tits, grazing them lightly with her thumbs declaring, “Tits look perky. Very cool.” She smiled a devilish grin knowing full well what she did, eyeing my erect nipples standing at full attention.
“Fuck! I can’t go without a bra if I’m going to shine my headlights! Geez, Sally.” I laugh exasperated, grabbing a pale blue sweater to cover myself.