Let Me Warm You Up: A True Story

Kristen Scott stood under the shower spray, hot water running down her naked body. She never heard the knocking. Never caught the phone buzzing on the counter. She finally cut the water and stepped out, dripping. Six missed calls lined up on the screen. Her stomach dropped. She threw a towel around herself and bolted for the front door. Naomi Woods lay on the concrete, dead weight, skin shining with sweat, chest heaving. Kristen hauled her inside, knees nearly giving out from the sudden panic. In the bedroom she stripped the soaked clothes off her friend's burning skin. Cold water. A wet rag across Naomi's forehead. Kristen pressed the cloth to every inch of hot skin, pulse racing. When she pulled the shirt away, Naomi gave a weak nod. One by one each remaining stitch of clothing hit the floor until Naomi lay naked, cooler, but staring at Kristen like she had never really looked before. "You're beautiful," Naomi whispered. She didn't sound weak anymore. She sounded hungry. Her mouth found Kristen's, tongue demanding, hands sliding under the towel, pushing it away. Kristen tried to ask if she was okay, tried to say slow down, but Naomi shoved her onto the mattress and dropped between her thighs. The first long lick stole the argument from Kristen's lungs. Naomi licked deeper, sucking at her clit, gripping her ass to keep her open. Kristen stopped worrying about sunstroke. She stopped worrying about anything except the relentless stroke of Naomi's tongue inside her, drawing every slick pulse of heat straight from her core. Naomi wasn't letting her go anywhere. She was going to thank her friend even if Kristen screamed her name into the sheets to prove it.