Jealousy

What's that number you're writing down?' Yvonne asked, her voice tight. 'Nothing. Just someone new.' 'Is she prettier than me? Does she fuck you better?' The questions came faster now, edged with jealousy. 'Will she bury her face between your legs the way I do?' She dropped to her knees before I'd finished answering, pressing her mouth against the thin fabric of my skirt, hot breath already seeping through. Her tongue traced the line where my thighs met, insistent, claiming what she was afraid she'd lose.