Her white cropped top stands out under the blacklight. The fluorescent lights brightening her neon pink mini skirt. She now has hearts and suns painted on her arms and face.
The usual neatly done curls of her shoulder-length hair are straightened, half pinned on top of her head in two space buns.
She’s wearing that rare genuine smile.
Not the passive aggressive one she likes to give to make a point of not liking someone’s presence or that hot as fuck scowl.
No, she tosses her head back when Sarah takes a large amount of paint in her hands and slaps it right in the center of Bethany’s face.
I could stand here and watch her all night. And I plan to do just that for a little longer until some guy comes up behind Denise.
He squeezes her hips like he has a right to do so and Denise is quick to slip out of his grip, making it clear that he doesn’t.
That adorable smile is replaced with an arched eyebrow, grin, and crossed arms. I can’t hear what’s being said but as Denise’s lips are rapidly moving, the guy’s hands shoot up in surrender.
She lightly shoves his chest and rolls her eyes before turning back around to face Sarah and Bethany, who aren’t even bothering to hide their annoyance with the guy.
My fists tighten at my sides and I’m walking over before my brain can even catch up to what I’m doing. The guy turns around to leave, grumbling about how I’ll need a godsend to get with that one.
And he has just enough luck for me to decide not to make him turn around and apologize.
I stand behind Denise but instead of holding onto her hips, I gently tap my knuckles against her arm.
Sarah and Bethany’s frowns are replaced with smiles as they wave. Denise throws her head back, groaning as she turns around.
“Can you just fuck off—”
Her annoyance eases when she realizes it’s me and like she just caught herself having a sense of relief at my presence, she crosses her arms again.
“Aww.” I smile. “Come on, Princess. You don’t mean that.”
She tries not to smile but the harder she tries, the more I want to keep pestering her until she stops fighting it.
Denise ignores my teasing, instead reaching for me. “Give me your hands.”
Call me pathetic because I do exactly as she says. No questions asked.
She picks up a tube of neon orange paint and squirts it onto the palms of my hands and has me rub them together. She grabs my wrists and without a warning, she puts both of my paint-covered hands right on her breasts.
And as if me having my hands on her breasts in front of everyone isn’t bad enough, she rests her hands on top of mine and presses my hands deeper, allowing me to squeeze the flesh.
Bethany and Sarah giggle from behind Denise, watching the whole thing.
And then because it’s not like I’m not already growing hard in my jeans, Denise takes a step back, puts more paint onto my palms, and shifts closer.
I open my mouth to ask her what she’s doing when her still wet chest presses against mine and she guides my hands to her ass.
This time I don’t wait for her to do it herself—I squeeze the flesh all on my own.
“Okay!” Bethany gasps. “That’s our cue to mingle.”
She and Sarah walk away in a fit of giggles but neither Denise nor I move.
The heels she’s wearing makes her stand at eye level with me, which is easier to lean forward, bringing our faces closer. Her grin widens as she swipes her lips across mine, but doesn’t allow me to press them together. She presses herself closer to me and my hands remain on her ass.
The music is now background noise to the sound of my very own heart and if I thought it was hot in here before, having Denise pressed up against me, her ass in my hands, has me thinking of going outside just to get some fresh air.
And maybe drag Denise along with me.