“This was never right.”
“Of course it wasn’t, but you never cared.” Grace stood in the door to the RV, a cold smile on her face as she leaned against frame. “You knew that from the start Funnel Cake, but you still came back, again and again and again. You came to me, like an addict to his crack dealer, and never once did I hear you complain. You loved every moment of it. You loved that it wasn’t right, and yet here you are. I know you, Elliot. Better than you’d like to admit.” Taking a step down, she made slow progress toward the taller female and her beloved motorcycle, a sultry sway to the former dancer’s step, matched with that same look that had never failed to hook the artist.
The moment she was close enough, a pale, perpetually chilled hand, ran up a tattooed arm, large enticing steely grey eyes lifted to her face from beneath a thick layer of dark lashes. “You’re in too deep now, Elliot,” Purring her lover’s name, there was a dangerous knowing behind her heated gaze as she stepped even closer, “And you like it. You like the danger in it. You crave it, don’t you?” Each word brought her a milimeter closer, her hand sliding down from her shoulder to ghost over one of her lover’s breasts before leaving her side to take a hand of her other so she could press her own chest into it. “You say it isn’t right…,” Breathing warm against the other pair of lips across from her, so close now, she spoke just before leaning in to kiss her in one of those heated, passionate ways that had them both melting a little, “But you don’t care.”
Wrapping her fingers around those that encased her breast, she laced them together so she could turn and lead the other woman back towards her waiting web. A spider and her all too willing fly.