Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“They had a flat tire,” Colin says.
“How much further to our destination?” I ask Toad, who tells me we have time to stop and still stay on schedule.
Colin’s already opening the side door. “It won’t take long,” he tells me before stepping out.
Zane looks like he’s just waking up from a nap, as Jordan and Owen follow Colin out. I watch them jog back to the stranded car as Toad slides over to the passenger side of her cockpit and steps out to join me.
“I’ll stay here if you want to go with them,” she tells me and Zane, who’s now standing next to me.
As I make my way toward the broken-down car, I realize that part of the surprise of this sudden stop was seeing Colin eager to help someone. I wouldn’t have pegged him as being anywhere close to the boy scout type.
Zane walks beside me, gallantly taking the side that’s closest to the traffic that’s flying by. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m acutely aware of his presence.
The other three men are in conversation at the side of the road with the car’s driver, an older woman whose body language tells me she’s frazzled. By the time I reach them, Jordan and Colin are preparing to change the tire while Owen stands with the woman.
As I approach, she turns to me and Zane. “Thank you so much for stopping. I don’t know what I would have done.”
“It’s a simple flat,” Owen explains, “and she has a spare that’s in good shape.”
“That’s great,” I say, noticing that there’s a toddler sleeping in a car seat in the back.
“I called for roadside assistance, but they told me they didn’t know how long it would take for someone to come. I’m surprised my grandson hasn’t woken up yet,” the woman says, glancing inside to check on him.
“I’m sure the guys will have you on your way quickly,” I tell her.
Zane and Owen join the other men while I keep the woman company. When the repair is finished, Colin gives her instructions on her next steps for replacing the temporary spare with a new tire. Jordan has searched for the nearest repair shop, and shows her the directions on his phone.
When all is said and done, they respond to her thanks with very polite “you’re welcome, ma’am’s” and even help her with timing when she’s ready to pull out onto the highway again.
I’m looking at them differently when we walk back to the van, and wondering where these helpful and respectful men came from. I’d be thrilled to get a fraction of this sort of good behavior out of them.
“That was a good deed,” I remark as we get back on our way.
“It’s called being nice to someone,” Jordan says. “You should try it sometime.”
I am, if someone is nice to me, I think, but I don’t say anything. I was trying to be nice right now, and look where it got me.
“You can come do a good deed right back here on my lap,” Colin says, all traces of the friendly boy scout gone.
“You wish.” Ugh, I’m sinking to their level, which is to say: childish.
Why do I let them get under my skin?
12
COLIN
I’d give up all of tonight’s tips if Brittany would take off her bra again.
Damn, tits have never looked so good, bobbing under her shirt like toys that demand to be played with. I want to stick my face — and my cock — between them and play with them for hours.
I need to get with a woman tonight, but it is expressly forbidden. I used to really like my bosses until they made up these bullshit rules. We had to sign a contract about it and everything.
“We’re a male revue show; we’re not strippers, and we’re definitely not escorts,” Chase Stanton had said in explanation. They’re so concerned about Club Red’s image, and I appreciate that they want to run a high-quality establishment, but how would me having one random hookup with an audience member put a stain on their reputation?
A couple more days, and I’m going to explode.
If they wanted abstinence, they could’ve at least given us an ugly tour manager.
Even though I badly need a release, it probably doesn’t matter anyway, because ever since Ms. Bossy Pants did her little tease last night, she’s all I’ve been able to think about.
Her fucking perfume fills the van, and it’s not because she wears too much of it. It’s because it’s seeped into my brain, more like a memory than an actual scent. I want to run my nose along her bare skin and inhale every inch of her, especially her pussy. And I know she wants it, too.
I also know without a doubt that she’d taste delicious. Even though she behaves like she’s full of piss and vinegar, I know she’d taste like milk and honey.