Salace by Yolanda Olson & K. Larsen

Author:Yolanda Olson & K. Larsen [Olson, Yolanda & Larsen, K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-10T16:00:00+00:00

KASEY

I blow out my breath as I tell myself not to linger on this for too long.

Though it’s great spanking material, it’s also a dangerous game to play.

Two women from the same household wouldn’t really be in anyone’s best interest. Especially since I think one of them wants to sink their claws into me, and I know that the other would be more than happy to just claw me.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if older women really are more experienced, and how assertive they are in knowing what they want. Is Ms. H more of a teacher or is she more of an explorer?

Too many goddamn questions floating in my head about her instead of Aimee.

She’s the one that should be more attainable, though it seems like she really can’t stand the sight of me, and I have no fucking clue what to do to change that.

I bet asking her is out of the question, I think in amusement, as my eyes stay locked onto Ms. H’s. Guess now is a good a time as any to tell her that she needs to go home.

Letting the curtain fall back into place, I make my way out of the bedroom and head down the hall, quietly taking each step down to the ground floor. Once I reach the bottom step, I cast a glance up over my shoulder, then wait a few seconds before letting out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and heading quickly toward the front door.

I put a hand on the doorknob, then rest my head against the cool oak. I don’t even know how to go about this without possibly hurting Ms. H’s feelings, but if my parents caught her out there staring at my bedroom window, they’d interrogate me, call the cops, have her arrested on an imaginary whim, then where the hell would I get with Aimee? She’d hate me even more than she apparently does now.

Pulling open the door, I leave it cracked slightly behind me as I head down the walkway toward the street. There’s no other way than to be honest with her about the possible repercussions of being out here, uninvited. If she hates me, then she hates me.

I’m kind of getting used to women feeling that way as it is.

I raise an arm to wave at her, and when I get her attention, she immediately turns on the headlights of her car, blinding me.

“Fuck,” I grumble, as I raise an arm to shield my eyes. I blink rapidly a few times to shake off the sudden explosion of lights. When I’m damn sure I can see clearly again, I drop my arm—then raise an eyebrow curiously.

Ms. H’s car is gone.

I didn’t even hear it leave.

Which makes me wonder.

Did I imagine the whole thing?

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