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Ginger looked up at him, her eyes fixed on his, "Come on, Clancy... Overflow."
When she opened her eyes Sligh’s face was right before her. He was wearing that insufferable grin again, but she found herself smiling back. There was a hair stuck to his chin, and she reached out to pluck it from his skin.
He caught her hand before she could flick it away. “I get to make a wish,” he said, and blew at the hair. For a moment it stuck to her finger, then it broke free and flew away, spiralling in the air before falling to the floor.
The cloth of my chair was coarse against the bare skin of my back and the night air was cool on my breasts.
A witch's tongue isn't forked, but it could certainly feel that way. It wasn't sharp, but it knew how to dive and shift, getting exactly where it wishes to be.