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⊰ 2 ⊱ Taste of Nostalgia: Part 1
As Marcel’s hand shifts from my breast, slipping out from under my shirt, my face flushes, burning a hot red. My gaze still locked on Levi, the urge to want to hide myself under the pool table as Marcel’s touch leaves me grows by the second. Despite the interruption, he doesn’t back away, my back still pressed against him as he remains close, his possessive nature never wavering.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I snap my head forward, feeling myself sink deeper into the black hole of my embarrassment. It’s like I’m 18 again, only this time, the modification is tenfold. Being caught in the middle of a heated, full on make-out session with my…Marcel is a new level of humiliation.
There goes my dignity.
In the next moment, Marcel reaches for the glass and cigar he’d set down on the pool table and steps back, away from me. Without a word, he moves toward the parlor’s door
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