[I don't like you, she wants to argue, because she doesn't. What she feels toward Kate, or about Kate, it's different than like, and not necessarily in a good way. Just in a way. (" Friends (?) ")
But it is really hard to argue when she likes what Kate is doing to her right now, the pressure of her fingers, the lingering stroke of newly-calloused fingertips between her legs, and the heat of her breath, and her voice, at her ear. Good is the only word for all of that, and Johanna's knees weaken just a little. She tries to sag back against the wall instead, to manuever herself so Kate can do a better job of it.]
The knife.
[There's such heat in her voice. She doesn't try to hide it; she bites at her lip, more to hide her grin than anything. The flush in her cheeks, on her skin--it's less to do with the heat of the water, and more to do with Kate, just like the slick wet between her legs has less to do with the shower than with Kate, Kate--]
You. [Nearly a growl; she bites at her own lip again, but her grin still spreads You, I want you.
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But it is really hard to argue when she likes what Kate is doing to her right now, the pressure of her fingers, the lingering stroke of newly-calloused fingertips between her legs, and the heat of her breath, and her voice, at her ear. Good is the only word for all of that, and Johanna's knees weaken just a little. She tries to sag back against the wall instead, to manuever herself so Kate can do a better job of it.]
The knife.
[There's such heat in her voice. She doesn't try to hide it; she bites at her lip, more to hide her grin than anything. The flush in her cheeks, on her skin--it's less to do with the heat of the water, and more to do with Kate, just like the slick wet between her legs has less to do with the shower than with Kate, Kate--]
You. [Nearly a growl; she bites at her own lip again, but her grin still spreads You, I want you.