His hand slides between the folds of my dress. My p***y’s still drenched, desperate to finish what it didn’t get to. “How aboutthis?”
He starts touching me over my clothes. I’m so worked up, it just might be enough.
I grab his shoulders, hold on for dear life—
—and that’s when some dickhead starts shooting.
The second the first shot rings out, I drag Mia behind the corner of the bathroom hallway. “Stay down.”
I start running calculations in my brain. The trajectory of the bullets, everyone else’s positions, the math of life or death.They’ve all dived for cover, exactly the way we devised: Zhenya and Anton behind the bar on the west wall, holding a rifleeach; Kazimir under the pool table to the east side, his gun drawn and ready; and Maksim tucked behind the balust
