Bachelorette Bet

Holly sits there, the last guest gone, the music still ringing in her ears. Emma sweeps plastic cups into a trash bag, hips swinging like she’s still on the dance floor. Holly smiles, loose-limbed and grateful. “You made this night for me,” she says, soft and sincere. Emma pauses, eyes narrowing. “You really loved it?” Holly nods. Emma laughs once, short, disbelieving. “That stripper? She barely moved.” Holly sits straighter. “She wasn’t that bad.” Emma snorts. “I could do it better blindfolded.” The words hang between them, half dare, half joke. Emma steps closer, heat in her voice. “Let’s settle it. I’ll give you a lap dance. If I turn you on more than she did, you owe me an orgasm.” Holly’s pulse jumps. She’s marrying in weeks, yet the idea sits warm and heavy in her belly. She’s sure she’ll win. She settles into a straight-backed chair, knees loose, blonde hair brushing her shoulders. Emma starts slow, rolling her body in a tight circle, shaved skin gleaming under low lights. She presses close, the soft swell of her small, natural breasts grazing Holly’s cheek. Her hips grind forward, slow and steady, until the heat between them builds. Holly’s breath catches; her thighs tense. Each motion pulls her deeper. By the time Emma straightens and offers a hand, Holly’s gaze is dark, her voice low. She leads Emma to the bedroom, already reaching for the promise she lost fair and square.