Hiding the cuffs amongst her bras is smart, Peggy thinks. No one would dare look in that drawer. And although she doesn't quite understand why Dottie insists on them, it wouldn't feel right to pry.
As they close around her wrist, Dottie closes her eyes. It's a small relief to know Peggy is willing to stay, to lay next to her and pretend this is what family does for each other. "Thank you."
It's also simpler to keep up the appearance that they aren't more than just friends, neighbours. The less the other girls know, the more the risk of getting caught is minimised.
"Would you like any help?"
Dottie nods and bites her bottom lip. Her breath hitches in her throat when Peggy's fingers graze her stomach and proceed to curl around the hem of her skirt. This is the Peggy she likes best: possessive, dominating.
Next thing she knows her skirt's down to her ankles and that damp patch she's been hiding all afternoon is exposed. ". . . I'm a little heated, could you maybe take the rest off too?"
"Was it Angie who made you feel like this," Peggy asks, being none too subtle as she climbs onto the bed to straddle Dottie and remove her blouse, "or me?"
She's seen that look before, the one Peggy struggles to hide anytime they're together. There's a fire in her eyes and Dottie wants to feel it burn her skin. "Both."
Oh? Peggy purses her lips. "A pity she's not here."