#usft implied

[flappervcmp]

[ hot & heavy ] // sorry he forced my hand...

It was late, long after his show had finished. She'd gone to see him in his dressing room, making polite small talk with his bandmates and crew as she made her way to the very last door—his name taped across the front of it.

Annie barely made it five steps inside before he was on her, pushing her back against the door behind her, slamming it shut as his mouth covered hers as though he'd been waiting all night for this.

His hands grabbed onto her waist, hoisting her up like she weighed nothing—her legs wrapping around him, holding herself in place. She'd worn a skirt, on the off-chance he decided to get handsy, and as usual—she was right.

Her skirt bunched around her waist, and she rocked against him, using her legs to pull him in closer. He was wearing too much in her opinion, but her hands were occupied with pulling on his hair, fingers tangling in the slicked back strands.

She pulled her mouth away from his, just enough to get a few words out. "Think you're wearin' a bit too much, Spike." And then her mouth was back on his, teeth digging into his lower lip.