Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I mutter as I look down to meet the deepest crystal blue eyes of my life.
I can’t breathe. I’m stuck in place as her eyes lock to mine. She opens and closes her mouth with no words coming out. It takes a minute, and she seems to roll her shoulders back trying to get space between us. She quickly gathers her shit while I’m still stunned at the contact in a way I can’t explain.
“Sorry, sugar, didn’t mean to run into ya. Haven’t had enough caffeine yet to be around people. I shouldn’t have taken the little stopper out of the lid either. I’m not winning yet today.” She lifts her left hand up to me, “here, take this one. I shouldn’t be double fisting anyway. Plus, I made that awesome leather smell you got going on all sweet with this brown sugar shaken espresso. Wouldn’t want anyone to wonder why, so you take this one here, and enjoy it.”
I let out a deep laugh. She isn’t fazed by me, my cut, or the presence of my club. She’s making jokes when most people tend to walk the other way when they see us coming. I like the laid back way she’s handling this. It’s refreshing in a way I haven’t ever cared about before. Honestly, I find it funny the way people will sometimes literally cross the street or go down a different aisle at a grocery store to avoid us. We don’t fuck with people who don’t fuck with us.
“Cute one, sweets.” I release my hold on her to take the drink in my left hand. Mission to spend money inside is forgotten as she steps back and immediately, I want to pull her close again. Damn, she’s beautiful.
To my six-feet-four-inch body, she’s a solid five-feet-ten-maybe-eleven-inches with long dark hair that goes down to a plump ass in a pair of jeans that should be criminal to fit so good. The Metallica t-shirt fits tight across her tits and loose at her waist leaving me to wonder about all the curves of her body. Damn, I’m getting a chub imagining it.
“Sorry again about the little bump. Hope you have a great day and good ride.” She smiles and fuck, I might just faint.
I’ve been around a lot of women and not one has ever been this chill at a first meeting, especially after literally bumping into me. I’m a fucking brick wall. This woman is dangerous. I’ve never been shy about wanting pussy, but something tells me her pussy is the kind a man like me could crave. My mind goes wild with the ways I could fuck her. Watching her hair fall onto my chest as she rides me, or better yet, putting her face down, ass up, and yanking her by those luscious locks back to look at me while I take her from behind.
Oh yeah, this one here, she’s got a fire that will burn a man with a single touch. I might want to play with fire this time.
As she walks away, I follow because why not? I don’t mind some pain with my pleasure because this one is sure to burn deep. I fucking love a chase too.
She doesn’t seem to notice or if she does, she isn’t giving me any indication as she makes her way to an old red Ford Focus. Cute for a first car or college ride, but for this woman who is clearly all woman, what the hell?
Now, I find myself more curious. The car is clean from what I can see. An NC State Wolfpack sticker on the back window and an advertisement for some nut company leaving me wondering if this is actually her car or maybe a younger sister’s? She doesn’t strike me as one to drive something basic. She’s rock-n-roll, fire, with a side of sweet, she needs a car with flare. Simply put, she doesn’t strike me as a normal sedan driving chick.
More than that, this thing can’t be reliable. At first glance, the body style, this is an early two-thousands model. Pushing twenty years on these cars isn’t smart like those classics. If this was a car from the sixties to eighties, I would stand behind the build and longevity. The time frame of this hunk of machine is when computers kick in and everything is plastic as fuck. Not only is reliability something to question, but the safety isn’t there. This car is clearly ready for retirement.
The laughs and whistles behind me get my attention.
“Damn, Country Boy chasin’ tail before we even get to the party,” I recognize Stud’s voice yell out behind me followed by a whistle. “That’s what I like to see, brother.”
“Fancy coffee means fancy pussy, Country Boy, better be careful there, Pres,” calls out Miles. I throw my head back laughing as the sweet thing in front of me stops at her door turning to face me once again.