She looked at me, horrified. I had the gun on Cooper, and my body had gone quiet, the anger sliding away on the nice white static in my head. He had his hands on his hips above his Sam Brown belt. He'd worked me larger by being rough, making me take all of him and more, and now that he had a hair's breadth of room, he used it.
Damian's hands were on the back of my bra; somehow it had survived that first rush. One of the women before this one had groped him, so he'd made sure there wasn't enough space between the front of their bodies for anyone's hands to wander too far. I hadn't known we were pretending, but I didn't say it out loud. He knelt down to open up the tool drawer.
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