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I kissed her. Of course I did.
It was soft for about one second. Then Jess made a noise in her throat, grabbed my T-shirt in both fists and kissed me like she’d been saving it up. Her mouth was hot and tasted of tea and toothpaste. I got my hands on her hips, soft and generous and exactly as good as I’d imagined, and lifted her onto the worktop. She wrapped her legs round me and ground herself against the hard length in my shorts.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted to do that since Sunday.”
I pulled her vest up. Her breasts were heavy and freckled, pink nipples tight, and I took one in my mouth and sucked until she hissed and arched. Her hand shoved down the front of my shorts and closed round my cock. “Fuck, Tom. Look at you.”
I slid two fingers inside the leg of her knickers. She was soaking, slick and swollen, and she gasped into my hair when I found her clit. Behind her, the red knickers on the radiator watched us.
Then she caught my wrist, breathing hard, and nodded at the uncurtained window over the sink. “Not here. Next door’s lights are on.”
Her eyes were dark and begging. Hannah’s best friend, wet on my hand, waiting for me to say where.