Getting Caught: Almost Freaky

Eliza Jane lies awake stewing. Her wedding looms, and her nerves crack each time Brandi leans close to Chanel—every laugh, every touch a fresh slice. She should not care this much. When Brandi corners her in the quiet hallway and offers a too-sweet promise—“You’re still my number-one girl”—Eliza’s mouth answers for her brain. Words tumble out hot and wrong: 'I want to be your good little girl.' She leans in, catches Brandi’s lips, moans at the taste, and lingers like an addict for another lick of heat. Brandi freezes, then steadies her voice. She steers Eliza toward sense without saying the raw fact—that their bodies know each other already, night after night. Chanel waits downstairs, patient at first, then brittle. After all her attempts to smooth over the wedding tension, this sharp little bridezilla still finds fault. The moms touch anyway. Chanel’s palm slides up Brandi’s thigh and their mouths meet, open and wet, until Eliza steps from the shadows and catches them. The room turns to glass. Confessions scrape out. Brandi’s hand still cups Chanel’s breast. Nothing hides now. Two women who know Eliza’s secrets close the space. Brandi’s voice loses its honey. Chanel’s eyes narrow. The lesson starts with kisses and commands. Eliza sinks, head tipped back, letting their mouths and fingers remind her who runs her nights and why acting out never ends clean.