“So where’s Dan?” asked Lance.“Oh, he found something better to do than look after Angie.”I heard a thudding sound in the hallway as Angie r...n to stand in the doorway. She stood and looked at us for a moment and then ran back to the kitchen, yelling “They’re just talking!” as she ran.I looked at Lance and rolled my eyes. “Sorry about that. Angie can be a bit nosy sometimes.”Lance shrugged and put his empty glass down on the coffee table. Then he slid back into the couch, somehow ending up. His eyes have long since shuddered closed, his brow furrowed. A calloused hand is tight at your thigh, bracing you against a shelf, and your fingers tangle in his hair and hold on for dear life. You dimly wonder in that lust-addled way if you will knock over the metal structure, if it can even be knocked over, but his hips rock forward and dusty spines dig into your back and you groan and stop wondering about the shelves or the noise or the thirty pages due at the end of the week because his. More

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