A sharp jolt sent a throb to Gezza in the chest, as though a live wire has been torn through him.
He held on to the kitchen counter, the smooth edge digging into his palms, his shredded gray sneakers rubbing on the tiles.
The atmosphere was acrid with lemon dish soap and the hot steam of Tara tea, coiling about a chipped mug against her.
Her eyes, which matched a hazy green, wide with worry, swept over him, the glint in her undercut shining in the kitchen fluorescent lighting, her Ramones tee sliding even further along her tattooed shoulder.
The dragon tattooed on her collarbone was apparent to writhe in response to her leaning closer with her. "Yo, you good?" asked she, a bit softer now, the stinging quality of the voice blunted by the magic of the Playbook.
An electric glow flushed her frecked cheeks, and betrayed the attractions of the book itself, as she stood within the space of an inch, her breath rustling his face, as aromatic as peppermint tea.
The pulse of Gezza soared, the heat of the Playbook burning his back pack, the warning, the Playbook takes, a wail in his skull. But it was lost in the proximity of Tara.
She was so close with her lips, full and slightly parted, that he could see the faint gloss on her lips.
"Yep, just... got up on the wrong foot", he said, and bristled his hoodie against her. The sleazy grin returned to his face. "Did not know you cared, Miss Dragon Tattoo".
The roses in the face of Tara increased, and her freckles stood out like the pink creeping along her neck.
She rolled her eyes, and yet her eyes hung on his jaw, his lips. "Hitchcock", said she, I
Her fingers were finding a way to hold on her mug with more force, the ceramic gliding gently on the counter.
The Playbook gave Gezza courage and he became daring. He reached forward, his hand touched her wrist, making a jolt run through her.
She fluttered, her breath coming short and her eyes flashing to his in a bewilderment and an emotion warmer than confusion.
"What's that look for?" he jested, with a low voice, changing, till their faces were close together. His hands followed her arm, slowly and slowly, touching the heat of her body through her loose tee.
Tara opened her lips, her breathing accelerated and he took advantage of his luck, moving a kiss along her neck just under her dragon tattoo.
Her flesh was warm, with a slight touch of salt and leather, and she shivered, a little gasp coming out of her. "what--" she began, but her voice trembled, and her body leaned towards him, and the Playbook was conquering her.
He fell and thumped his backpack to the floor with a dull thud, his Playbook still hot on the inside, and took her up on the counter.
The edge scrawled against her, her torn jeans rubbing the surface, her boots hanging.
"You not so tough now", he said in a whisper, with his lips on her ear, his hands on her hips.
Tara hesitated with her hands on his chest, as though she were ready to push him off, and then her nails were in his hoodie.
"It is... strange", she said to herself, in a tone of rebellion and submission, her eyes so black with the lusts of Playbook.
Gezza slipped her fingers under her tee and touched the tender body of her waist, then down, fondling the waistband of her jeans.
He had the stumbling arrogance, his hands slow and clumsy, and her warmth gave him a tingling sensation on his fingertips.
With a moan, which gave him a jolt, Tara relaxed her thighs and her breath came in with a hitch.
Her nails tore at his shoulders, and her body curled in his hand, and Gezza grinned, and his inner perv was feeling the power.
"Bet Mia would lose it to see you take her man," he joked and his voice was dirty and his lips tender on her collarbone and the dragon tattoo was warm against his breath.
The moan shook out of Tara as she looked at him, her eyes guilty, yet as the magic of the Playbook stood, she shivered in his hands.
" You are such an ass", she grumbled but her hand tightened and he was drawn nearer, and her opposition melted.
It was all sleaze in the head of Gezza, he saw her squirming on the counter, her snarky mouth reeking with more, and the fantasy was so clear that his breath came faster.
However, there was another shock that struck him, which was still sharper and his body was jumping as though he was stunned.
He could not breathe, before the kitchen door burst open and Mia rushed in, her blonde hair dishevelled, her crop top half off her hips.
Her blue eyes opened, and consumed Tara on the counter, and the hand of Gezza in her tee, and the air full of steam and tension.
"What the hell, Tara?" she snapped, and her voice was sharp.
She stood at the entrance of the kitchen in a changed dress,"you go behind my back and—" She paused her eyes diming.
As Gezza began pouring all of his lustful thoughts into her : both sisters, entangled in each other, their bodies touching.
His bag buzzed with the Playbook and the anger in Mia came to a halt, her lips twisting in a naughty smile.
"Starting without me, huh?" Mia was teasing, and the tone of her voice dropped to silvery purr, her eyes as gleaming and unnatural as the hunger in Tara's.
Woah that works too.. Gezza grinned.
Mia got closer, and her bare feet did not make a sound on the tile, her scent of vanilla-rose breaking in on the tang of dish soap.
"Didn't imagine you would, sis, but I will not repent". She spoke in fun, the doing of the playbook, Gezza dropped his jaws with his heart racing.
Ready, under his spell, both sisters, were.