Find Me

The afternoon hung flat and gray. Jessa whispered hide-and-seek and her lips barely moved when she said the winner earned something dirty. She slipped past the doorway, barefoot, and waited behind the corner. Avery followed, and Jessa shoved hard, forcing her onto the mattress. Knees hit the sheets. They had each other fast—no slow slide, no tease—just lips, teeth, hands fumbling under clothes like the air had gone thin. Avery’s shirt twisted above her ribs, Jessa’s fingers already inside her. Hips jerked. Sheets clenched. Their mouths locked, broke, locked again. Breath and spit and low, hungry sounds spilled between them. Every move crashed like the last. Sweat rose on skin. Avery arched, begged without words, and Jessa answered with the same crude need. The room smelled of heat and bodies; outside, daylight stayed dead. Neither pulled away. They kept chasing the high that still hovered just beyond reach.