Page 53 of Her Sloth

She closes her half-open mouth reproachfully.

“It is completely impossible and insane,” I repeat myself, “I don’t understand a thing about that world. It sounds like a fundamentally stupid idea. But hell yeah, I’m in.”

A grin spreads over her face.

“You do know that we might end up in prison?” I ask. “For life?”

She bites her bottom lip with all her visible upper teeth to stop the grin from spreading even further as she nods knowingly.

Reckless.

Thrill-seeking.

No regard for her life.

Like me.

“Wasn’t it you who said the world runs without me?” she asks me, and then does something that causes my heart to skip several beats at a time.

She climbs back onto the bed, over to me⁠—

Suddenly, she is so close.

My eyes widen.

Hands get sweaty.

She sits on my lap.

Taking one big gulp to empty the bottle in her hand.

I am at a loss at what to do.

With my hands.

With my entire body.

With my thoughts.

“What are you—“ I stammer out.

There isn’t a single thought in my brain right now.

She leans over to the empty bottle on the nightstand.

Leans back.

Ties her long blond hair in a high ponytail.

“Cuba,” she says.

I am not even listening properly.

I am just looking at her boobs right in front of my face, squeezed into a laced bra underneath that black, silken corporate blouse, caressing over her skin.

I feel her ass in my lap.

She cups my face.