Alone At Last!

Jessie Saint bounces on her heels as her parents finally pull out of the driveway. Alone at last. She peels off her clothes, leaves them where they fall, and stretches across the couch in nothing but her underwear. The remote is hers. The whole night is hers. She queues up every horror title her parents have ever blocked. By midnight the house feels different. Floorboards shift. Pipes tick. Jessie lies rigid beneath the sheets, convinced the villains from the screen have stepped into her room. Her heart slams against her ribs. She grabs the phone. Jane Wilde shows up in a worn tee and jeans, steady and unfazed. She takes Jessie by the hand and leads her through every room, flips every switch, even checks the closets. Nothing. Still, Jessie’s fingers stay tight around Jane’s wrist. Jane doesn’t argue when Jessie asks her to stay. They climb into the same bed. At first it’s only warmth and shared breath. Then fingertips trace collarbones, hips slide closer, and the fear melts into something hotter. Blonde hair spills across brunette strands. Small breasts brush. Jessie’s breath catches when Jane’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of her underwear, parting her gently, pressing in with slow, deliberate strokes. Each quiet sound Jessie makes fills the dark room. She arches, greedy, already certain she wants every night to feel exactly like this.