Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“On?”
“On if the guy even eats pussy at all, let alone knows what he’s doing,” I said. And, oh yes, that was heat in his eyes. It was too intoxicating not to keep stoking it. “But if he knows what he’s doing? Nothing compares to person-to-person contact. Don’t you think?”
“How the fuck would I know?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Well, there is a whole market of male masturbatory aides,” I said.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “If I want pussy, I go out and find someone to fuck.”
“Yeah, because there’s no risk for you.”
“Risk?” he asked.
“Well, I mean even if it isn’t a great lay, you always get off, right?” I asked, getting a nod from him. “But that’s not always the case for us womenfolk. So you have to weigh your need for human contact with your willingness to take a chance on someone scratching your back but never quite getting the right spot, if you get what I’m saying.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed, nodding. “But for the record, you’re fucking bitch-ass guys if they don’t get you off first.”
And with nothing but that delicious little nugget, he was back to his seat.
This time, though, he pulled headphones out of his backpack and slipped them on his ears to drown out the women.
For the next hour or so, my thoughts teetered back and forth between the cocaine issue and the image of Junior on his knees between my legs, knowing exactly what he was doing, and doing it relentlessly until I came hard and long.
“Well, honey, we just had the best time,” Barb told me as she brought their plates and mugs back to the counter, saving me a trip. “We will see you around the same time next week,” she added, giving me a big smile as she dropped a twenty into the Just the Tip jar.
“I’ll be so happy to have you,” I told her, adding silently If I’m still alive next week.
I swear the women hadn’t even finished passing the window out front before Junior was out of his seat and back in front of me at the counter.
“Was that long enough for you to get your head out of your ass and talk to me about what’s going on?” he asked.
“Well, when you put it so kindly…” I said, rolling my eyes at him.
But then, as if the book club had turned my luck around, the door opened again.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he told me. “If I have to sit here until you close to get you to talk to me, I’m here. And I’m not just saying that because I’m avoiding going home and hearing my friend,” he said, seeming to choke on that word for some reason, “tell me all about getting laid for the first time.”
With that, he paid me for his refill, then moved out of the way of the new customers.
It wasn’t busy the whole day, but Junior just stayed at his table, typing on his laptop, getting refills of coffee and the occasional sweet treat.
I was suddenly angry with my high school boyfriend who once claimed it was “asking too much” to have him wait at least a week to start getting physical. When this practical stranger was willing to wait an entire day just to hear me tell him why I was in a weird mood.
Eventually, when the trickle of customers came to a complete halt, I decided it was probably best just to lock the shop up for the night, finish cleaning up, and get this over with.
“Done fucking around?” Junior asked as I wiped down the counter for the fourth time.
Admittedly, I was procrastinating.
Because, really, I couldn’t tell this guy what was really going on.
You didn’t go around confessing to random strangers that you were part of a major drug smuggling business. Not even if you were doing it against your will. Not even if the person you were confessing to operated his own business on the other side of the law.
It was different.
Or, at least, it felt different.
“You should just go home, Junior,” I said, moving out from behind the counter to start flicking off the lights. “Believe me, you don’t want to be involved in this.”
“Doll, if you’re going to try to play the stubborn game, trust me, you’re gonna fucking lose. I will figure it out one way or another. And as much as I wouldn’t mind scrolling through all your old messages and seeing what naked selfies you’ve sent to exes,” he said, his gaze sliding down my body, “I’d rather you just tell me what’s going on.”
I glanced out the front window, eyes scanning the streets, wondering if they were out there as we spoke, if they were looking for an opening to jump out of a shadow, grab me, and drag me away to my fate.