Free The Sweetest Revenge by Lucy Felthouse Page B

system would be to ask her out. If she said no, she’d know for sure she had no chance and get over it. But if she said yes...
    The possibilities — erotic and otherwise — were endless and, as Mackenzie roared away on her Ducati Monster, Abigail couldn’t help but think about just how much she’d like to explore each and every one of those possibilities with her. Repeatedly.

Chapter Two
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    Abigail dreamt of Mackenzie again that night. It was hardly surprising, given the way she’d gotten her going that day, roaring up on the motorbike and caressing it like a lover, before jutting that cute ass in her direction. The courier had thrown plentiful fuel on Abigail’s fantasy fire and now her dreams were reflecting her inflamed state.
    She woke suddenly, bathed in sweat and with an ache and wetness between her legs that wouldn’t allow her to forget what she’d been dreaming about.
    â€œFor fuck’s sake,” she murmured, rolling onto her back and flopping onto the pillows with more force than was necessary. “She won’t even leave me alone when I’m asleep!”
    She aimed her irritation at Mackenzie, even though she knew it was unfounded. It was easier than admitting to herself that she was harbouring a growing obsession — it had gone way beyond attraction by now — for someone she didn’t know. They hadn’t even met, really, beyond Abigail accepting a parcel and the usual pleasantries that went with such a menial task. The only reason she even knew Mackenzie’s name is because it had been on the paperwork she’d scrawled her signature on when signing for the package.
    And now here she was, dreaming about the woman for the umpteenth time and sticking her hand down her pyjama bottoms to try and relieve the residual tension. She’d tried ignoring it, time and time again, but it was impossible for her to sleep with that throb between her legs. She just couldn’t do it.
    She opened her legs for better access, spreading her index and middle fingers and sliding them down her labia, before rubbing up and down on the rapidly swelling flesh. The squelch of pussy juices was audible from beneath the covers, and she dipped a fingertip in to see just how wet she was. She gasped. Wet wasn’t a strong enough word. Sopping, perhaps, or saturated. Regardless of terminology, Abigail’s body had had an incredibly powerful reaction to what she’d been up to in her dreams and was demanding that she dealt with it.
    Unwilling — or unable — to refuse, she pressed a finger to her clit. It was sensitive, needy, and she knew that it wouldn’t take much to make her cum. The dream had obviously been her foreplay, and now her hungry cunt was ready for the main event. She pulled the swollen bundle of nerve endings between finger and thumb and rolled it, gently at first. Then she punctuated each roll with a pinch. Roll, pinch. Roll, pinch. She knew if she carried on like that, she’d be climaxing within a minute or so. Normally, if she woke in the middle of the night, she was eager to get back to sleep as soon as possible, otherwise she’d be grumpy in the morning. But for some reason, on this occasion she was happy to draw out her orgasm, knowing it would result in a more powerful reaction in the long run.
    Stopping her torment on her clit, Abigail pushed two fingers inside her pussy, then drew them back out, before sucking them into her mouth. She moaned blissfully, closing her eyes. The taste of pussy had always gotten her hot, and as she enjoyed the mixture of sweet and tart on her tongue, she let her mind wander. Specifically, onto how she thought Mackenzie’s pussy juices would taste. Abigail knew she was seriously biased, but she thought they’d taste divine. And, right at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to push her face between the younger woman’s legs to find out.
    Unfortunately, all