Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Where is all of this shit going?
“It was an 1865 murder whose victim was a family servant due to a series of perceived romantic entanglements over a village girl.”
“Pussy-whipped men killing over women.” I shook my head. “I would never take another’s life over ass.”
“No?”
“Not at all.”
“Wouldn’t you kill if someone came after Emily?”
“Hell yes. But, that’s because she’s more than family. She’s blood. She’s the beating to my heart. She’s the reason why oxygen pumps into my lungs.”
“That sounds like love.”
“Naw, man. That’s life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What Em and I are. . .and what we’ve survived. . .there’s no understanding to that.”
The stewardess returned with my plate of steak and fries.
She gave me a sexy smile and said something in French.
I gestured at him. “Hey, Jean-Pierre, could you translate for me?”
He frowned. “What do you want to say?”
“Tell her that she is the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever seen in my life. Those eyes are mesmerizing. Let her know that I’m wondering if I could take her out sometime and get to know her. Spend some money on her. Treat her like she deserves.” I licked my lips. “Tell her I’m her Prince Charming and I want to treat her like a princess. In fact, I think that's why God put me on this Earth. She's the reason.”
Jean-Pierre quirked his brows. “Are you serious?”
“Come on, man. Don’t be a hater.”
Sighing, he spoke to her.
She blushed. A sweet giggle left her. She whispered something my way and then hurried off.
I looked at him. “What did she say?”
“She said she will be off in two days and would love to spend time with her Prince Charming.” He frowned. “I am honestly surprised that worked.”
“Women love sweet words, man.” I picked up my silverware and cut into my steak. The meat was perfectly charred on the outside and red in the middle. The fries were thin and crispy. Instead of a side of ketchup, there was a tiny bowl of mayonnaise.
I took a bite of the steak and munched. “Why do the French always eat their fries with mayo?”
“The more important question is, why would Americans eat them with ketchup?”
Shrugging, I stuffed a mayo coated fry into my mouth. The salty, greasy goodness slid down my throat and I agreed. It was a perfect combination. The fries were crispy and hot, the mayo was cold and creamy. It was a perfect balance of flavors.
The stewardess returned with a cold beer and spoke.
Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes. “She wants to know if you need something else.”
“Tell her I need a whole lot more, and this need begins and ends with her.”
Jean-Pierre frowned at me.
“Come on, man. Hating isn’t cool.”
"Perhaps, you can tell her that you want a glass of water--"
"Focus on the need."
Sighing, Jean-Pierre translated for me.
She giggled and muttered several things in French.
I swallowed down a piece of steak. “What did she say, man?”
“She said that you are poetic.”
“Tell her I need one more thing.”
Jean-Pierre raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Condoms.”
“I’m not telling her that. She’s my employee.”
“Eh, man. She doesn’t work for me. Flirting is nice for her during a long shift. Women like to know that they're beautiful."
Shaking his head, he translated for me.
She blushed, giggled, and walked away, twisting her hips.
Yeah. I’m going to fuck her before we land.
Jean-Pierre disrupted my thoughts. “Are you enjoying your food?”
“I am.”
“Good. It might be your last meal.”
I snapped my view to him. “What?”
“We have a mission.” He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. “Hopefully, we survive it.”
“What mission?”
“Enjoy your food, Maxwell. It’s going to be a long flight.”
“Where are we going?”
“The United State of America.”
I lowered my fork and knife. “Why?”
Silence was his only response.
What is the Butcher up to?
Chapter 2
French Kisses
T
wenty minutes later and more of Jean-Pierre translating, I fucked the stewardess in the plane’s cramped white bathroom. I had her dress, bra, and panties off. I’d yanked them down seconds before as I plunged my tongue inside her.
So easy.
It had taken no effort to get her back there. Throughout my years, I'd discovered that most of the women that I'd met were lonely and hungered for a romantic adventure. They dreamed some rich guy would arrive at their doorsteps with a big dick and an even bigger bank account. They yearned for him to sweep them off their feet.
In this moment, I was her fantasy come to life. I was the black knight in shining armor, coming to save her from her mundane life. I was the pirate, kidnapping her for a wild adventure. I was the bad boy, ready to give her what she really wanted: a good, hard fuck. I was the one who was going to show her what it was like really live.
But in reality all she would get was a few minutes with this big black dick and a nice orgasm to tell her friends about.