Chapter 94. Zootopia

James shifted closer in his seat, his arm sliding along the shared armrest until his fingers brushed Carly’s thigh. The theater was packed enough that their closeness didn’t stand out, but not so full that anyone was paying attention to the back row. Zootopia played on screen—Judy Hopps chasing a lead, bright colors flashing—but neither of them was really watching anymore.

Carly’s hand found his first, lacing their fingers for a second before guiding his palm higher under the hem of her sundress. She wasn’t wearing panties; she’d whispered that confession in the ticket line, her cheeks pink, eyes sparkling with mischief. James’s breath caught as his fingertips met warm, slick skin. She was already wet. He traced her folds slowly, reverently, like he was memorizing her all over again.

She bit her lower lip, eyes fluttering as he circled her clit with the lightest pressure. A tiny sigh escaped her, barely audible over the movie dialogue. James leaned in, lips brushing the