The Space Between Us. Megan Hart

who could sleep in as long as she pleased, I was guaranteed to be woken earlier than I wanted.

      “Buck a suck!” shouted out one of the obnoxious girls as she yanked the bride forward by the wrist. “Hey, everyone! A buck a suck!”

      “I’d give them ten to get their fat asses off this dance floor,” Meredith said, and before I could reply, she’d turned. True to her word, she held up a ten-dollar bill. “What do I get for a ten-spot?”

      Those girls were giggling like crazy, some still gyrating as if someone had unhinged their hips. The one tugging at the bride’s hand snatched the ten from Meredith and waved it in the air. The crowd whooped in approval.

      “Buck a suck? You’d better get ready,” I thought Meredith said, but the music was so loud I could’ve been mistaken.

      That poor girl had no idea what hit her. Meredith put her hands on the bride’s hips, pulling them belly to belly as she slid a thigh between her legs. The idea of the game was to lip at the candy necklace the bride-to-be wore, and bite or suck off the individual candies, but Meredith, who’d paid for ten, was making sure she got her money’s worth.

      That girl-on-girl action that had been going on earlier? Nothing compared to what was happening now. Those other girls, those straight girls who thought a little dirty dancing or some fake kissing was the way to get guys to notice them, couldn’t begin to compete with Meredith when she turned it on. Meredith skimmed her lips over the necklace, not bothering with the candy, and found the bride’s throat beneath. Her hands gripped tighter as she pressed her thigh against the other woman’s pussy. Their bodies moved and melded.

      I thought the future Mrs. Whoever-the-fuck-she-was would push Meredith away. I think all of us watching did. But she must have been too drunk, too horny or simply too surprised, for all she did was tip her head back and let Meredith mouth her neck.

      And then Meredith kissed her.

      Full-on, openmouthed, tongues twisting together like snakes. Meredith’s hands slid up the other woman’s front to cup her breasts through her pink and sparkly T-shirt. They weren’t dancing, really, just grinding and tongue-fucking each other’s mouths. Her girlfriends looked on, agape.

      The men surrounding us exploded into a frenzy of catcalls, whistles and whoops.

      Meredith looked at me, and though her lips were still fused to that hapless bachelorette, I saw the curve of a smile. She broke the kiss abruptly, her lips still wet from it. The future bride stumbled back, looking stunned, her mouth slack, eyes glazed. Her nipples were hard, too, poking at the front of her shirt. Her friends surrounded her in the next minute, closing her in, reaching to support her because it looked as if she might just keel over.