A Gentle Rapping, Rapping At My Cottage Door

Dora's eyes watch him touch those ears that he had stopped her from touching earlier, making mental notes, no touching, don't breathe as loud. But you're so pretty to look at, you know. She quipped back just as fast, letting her gaze travel upward with an appreciative linger here and there. She could have smacked herself, if it was the other way around, she would have fussed to no end at him, and she hated a double standard. So she stopped, crossing her legs as she sighed gently.

When he asked, well, didn't ask if they had slept together, she immediately schooled her face, watching him as she leaned forward, letting the vee of her shirt fall down and open allowing an ample view. She raised a brow as she searched his face, I don't know what to be more hurt by. That I'd be so forgettable in bed that you'd not remember, or that you think I wouldn't still be straddling your face and grinding on your tongue while sucking you off. Dora deadpanned the entire thing, still leaned forward some and trying to fight the smile on her lips. Seriously Ruth, Danny brought you to me so far gone this time I doubt anything would have happened if we both wanted it to. Something about Nairn having everyone clear off for some time, or something. He figured you'd feel more comfortable here than most places. And you know I get lonely and always want the company.

When it's you. Went unspoken, and then he was standing and she forgot her promise from earlier about not touching him, and she grabbed his wrists, the circle of her fingers light, easily broken if he chose to pull away, but she wanted him to stay. She should... Stay. Ruth, you said it yourself, you don't have a bed to go to tonight. Stay, here, with me, I mean. I got the comfy chair and if you promise to keep your hands to yourself, the bed is big enough for the both of us.

Her cheeks were on fire.

@Ruth Yoesif