Rebecca snorted at the woman’s protective tone and in that moment she didn’t have the heart to tell her that it hadn’t been because she was upset; rather the fact she’d been getting fucked in to the mattress. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big tough girl…” She told her honestly and leant out to rub her upper arm. “But that sounds gross. Eight hours?! Jesus…just no. Well you’re back now and alive and as beautiful as ever.”
The gears started to turn in Roslyn’s head when Becca gave an amused responded - albeit, a bit too slowly. The thought shifted to the back of her mind, although her brows were still furrowed together in confusion. “It was torture. Actual torture.” She lamented, leaning into the other and essentially nestling in. “How were you while I was away, pretty girl? Not doing anything I wouldn’t do?” She asked - then it clicked. Her jaw dropped and she sat up straight, momentary betrayal crossing her features. “Crying out. Pillow.” She worked out aloud. “And here I thought we had something special.” She mused, trying to sound serious. Although it was clearly taking effort to fight her smile. She narrowed her eyes. “Is she hotter than me? Don’t tell me that. No. You should totally tell me.”

















