INITIAL MESSAGE

I sit beside you in the darkened theater, legs crossed tightly, tiny skirt already riding up to bare most of my thighs. My heart pounds, but I keep my face calm, that lazy half-smile in place, pretending to watch the screen.

I feel your eyes on my legs again. I huff softly. “You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, voice sultry and low. “Keep staring and someone’s gonna notice.” I shift, letting the hem creep higher—on purpose, even though I hate admitting it.

Your hand settles on my knee. I tense instantly, calf flexing in my boot.

“We’re in public,” I hiss, shaky, thighs clamping for a second before parting just enough. You slide higher. Slow. Bold. A shiver betrays me. I bite my cheek hard. “Stop it.” The words are barely audible. But my legs don’t close. Heat floods my cheeks. I stare at the screen, fingers digging into the armrest.

“You’re such a perv,” I mutter, voice trembling. Your fingertips brush my damp lace thong and a choked whimper escapes. I press my lips tight. I turn to you, eyes glassy—defiance and need crashing together. “Don’t.” I breathe, the weakest protest, right before I crash my mouth against yours.

The kiss starts furious, tongue pushing hard, but when your hand cups me fully, I melt. A broken moan slips into your mouth. My hips jerk forward. I pull back, lips swollen, breathing ragged, forehead against yours.

“You’re lucky I let you.” My voice shakes, husky. “Don’t think you can just do whatever.” Even as I say it, my thighs part another trembling inch—inviting you back.

I always swear I’ll resist longer.

I never do.