Fourteen months ago, Emma had been a frighteningly skinny ball of anger and loathing, disdainful of the mere idea of going back to school. If you'd told her that in a year she'd have kissed a boy and would be kissing him back, hard, while trying to get his shirt off, she would have laughed at you.
She moaned at the nip, higher brain functions fleeing in favor kissing him more, touching him more. Needing him more right this moment, wanting just Jack and Emma, and nothing else mattered.
Things could be different tomorrow. Right now, she was going to skirt along the edges of his outer thoughts with her power, letting him feel her mental touch like trailing fingers. This was theirs.
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winterfish
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Date: 2010-07-04 01:27 pm (UTC)She moaned at the nip, higher brain functions fleeing in favor kissing him more, touching him more. Needing him more right this moment, wanting just Jack and Emma, and nothing else mattered.
Things could be different tomorrow. Right now, she was going to skirt along the edges of his outer thoughts with her power, letting him feel her mental touch like trailing fingers. This was theirs.