Jess was in the pantry, stretching up on her tiptoes as she tried to reach a box of Girl Scout cookies on the top shelf. Her shirt was hitched up enough to give me a damn fine view of her ass wrapped in those skintight leggings, and I paused for a moment to admire her.

I thought I’d come the second I sunk into her. Years of fantasizing about her had nearly culminated in one goddamn thrust. Having her suck my cock all those years ago had nothing on being inside her, hearing her, watching her fall apart. It was the hate-fuck I’d needed for years, even better than my fantasies. No wonder Manson was so hopelessly fucked for her.

As much as I thought she was spoiled, prideful, selfish…I was fucked too. We all were, really; it just manifested in different ways.

I reached over her head, easily plucking the cookies off the shelf and handing them to her. She hurriedly dug into the box, popping one into her mouth and groaning as if it was orgasmic.

“God, these are my favorite,” she said, sighing contentedly before she held out the box. “Want one?”

“Thin Mints? Fuck yes.” I didn’t want just one; I took a whole sleeve for myself before she went back to browsing for snacks. One of Vincent’s sisters used to be a Girl Scout, and every time they had a sale, we’d stock up with as many cookies as we could afford. Frozen Thin Mints and coffee were basically my breakfast of champions for a while.

I stuffed two cookies into my mouth right as Jess turned back around. She giggled when I coughed, the mouthful not going down quite as quickly or easily as I’d hoped. She held out the box again, saying, “Here, you and Manson can have at it. I shouldn’t have anymore.”

“Shouldn’t?” I stared back at her incredulously. She’d had one cookie. “Says who?” She shrugged, muttering something about sugar and carbs, but I shoved the box back against her chest. “Girl, we broke into your house, shoved ice up your ass, and fucked you over your mother’s kitchen table. Eat some goddamn cookies.”

“Ugh, fine,” she groaned, but her tone was teasing as she snatched the cookies back.

Teasing or not, I still lunged for her, forcing her back until she was pressed against the crowded shelves.

“Are you forgetting the rules?” I said softly. Her eyes were wide in the dim light as she looked up at me, her chest swelling as she drew in her breath. She laid her hand against my chest, curiously tracing the gap where my denim vest left my skin bare.

Her touch left goosebumps on my skin.

“I did forget, sir,” she said, just above a whisper. She leaned a little closer. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said fine, sir.”