Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Sorry I took so long. I just wanted to get out of that dress and put on something more comfortable.”
More accessible is more like it. The cropped t-shirt is so short, it would barely take a flick of my finger to expose her firm and perky tits.
She pours us each a shot of moonshine and then walks over to me, taking a seat on the couch. She’s so close to me, we’re bumping shoulders. But she turns her body, giving me room, and opens her legs a little, which makes me look down at her invitation.
She’s not shy.
“Cheers?” she says, holding out a shot glass for me to take.
Which I do, then nod. “Sure. Cheers.”
We click the glasses together and then I watch as she downs it in one gulp like a professional. The wince is immediate and it comes with a wheezing gasp. A moment later, she’s coughing and I’m laughing.
“It’s a little strong?”
She can barely talk when she answers. “It’s… not bad…”
Which makes me laugh again. Then I down mine and the burn—holy fuck. I’ve had homemade whiskey all over the damn globe, but this is something else. It’s so hot, I’m expecting fire to come out of my mouth when I breathe.
I cough too, and then she’s pattin’ me on the back and we’re both laughing.
It’s good. Not just the moonshine and the girl, but the laugh.
I feel like it’s been a long time since I had a proper laugh.
After about a minute, we’re both recovered and she pours us each another. But when she offers it to me, I put up a hand. “One is enough, darlin’. I didn’t really come here to get drunk.”
This makes her eyes dance and she cocks a hip. “Oh? Then why did you come?”
“Well, to be honest, I just wanted to… watch.”
Her smile is so big, I laugh again. “Watch?”
“Like people-watch, ya know? I just wanted to be somewhere I could relax and fade into the background.”
This makes her snort. “Fade into the background? Ace, I’ve known you for all of twenty-five minutes and even I can see that you’re not a background kind of guy. Main-character energy is flowing off you like water running over the side of a hill in the springtime.”
“Why are you calling me Ace?”
“Because I don’t know your name and you look like a man who gets shit done.”
“Do I?”
She nods and repositions herself on the couch next to me so that she’s leaning against the armrest and her legs are draped over my lap. Immediately, I start touching those legs, rubbing my large hands over her knee and then along her inner thigh.
When I look back up at her, she’s staring right back at me. “I thought you weren’t lookin’ to fuck no one?”
“I’m not,” I say, but my voice is kinda raspy and hoarse. “I’m just… enjoying the view.”
She smiles. “Well, if you change your mind, you let me know.”
“How much?” I ask. Which is a terrible thing to say to a girl who looks this sweet. But the facts are the facts. She’s a whore.
“That’s up to you. We don’t have to fuck. We could just have fun.”
“How much does fun run?”
“Fun is fun and it’s all the same price. Fifty for fifteen minutes.”
I reach into my pocket, pull out my wallet, and present her that same fifty-dollar bill.
She takes it from me and then leans over and places it on the little table holding the moonshine. Then she sits up, climbs into my lap, straddles my legs, and pushes her tits into my face. “Where should we start?”
I look down, then flick my fingertip against her tight, white t-shirt, and up it pops, exposing those firm and perky tits of hers. She takes both my hands and places them on her breasts, inviting me to squeeze. Which I do.
She begins to grind on me. Slowly and deliberately. Like she’s trying her best to hit my cock in just the right way.
Of course, it immediately springs to life so her task is made easier. When I look at her again, she’s biting her lip. “Do you wanna kiss me?”
I’m watching her lips as she says this. They are pink and plump. And then, for some reason, I’m thinking about shit. The things I’ve done. The people I’ve hurt.
And then the next thing I know, I’m throwing her off me and pushing my way through the beaded curtain, leaving the same way I came in.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
She grabs my arm, but I whirl around so fast she goes flying sideways, crashing into the wall. When our eyes meet this time, she must see something in them.
She must see me in them. Because she cowers.
I shake my head, then turn and walk down the hallway, go back out to the main bar, climb up all the stairs that lead to the real world, and spend the next half hour hiking back up to where I left the bike.