Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Is this how he lives his life?
He inhales the joint, exhaling slowly, his eyes closed, his gorgeous face relaxed with pleasure. The girl sucking his dick has her head bobbing up and down, her naked body so incredibly perfect it makes me suddenly very self-conscious. Where does he find these women? I mean seriously, where?
I clear my throat and his eyes pop open and zero in on me, they scan my outfit, and then he breaks out into a grin. “Well, well, look what the noise dragged in.”
“Oh, how utterly original,” I mutter.
I step in and close the door, drowning out the noise so he can hear exactly what I have to say to him, because I’m only going to say it once. The women have all stopped what they’re doing and are staring at me in horror, well, all except one who has a grin on her face. She’s looking at me like I’m some sort of dessert that has been brought in for her to feast on. Ugh. Seriously.
“What do I owe this pleasure, Sparkler?” Riggs murmurs, inhaling again.
The smell of weed is making me want to sit down and join the party, but I’m a business owner and I can’t be seen doing drugs. My partying days are over.
I don’t know who I’m trying to convince.
“You’re keeping me up. I’m here to tell you to turn the music down or I’ll turn it down for you.”
He grins at me.
The girl on the floor, the one who was looking at me with seduction, crawls over toward me. I stare at her in horror. When she reaches me, she stands and steps up closer.
“Ah, excuse me, your nipple is touching my arm, and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
She giggles, and I try to jerk my arm away but she is like a god damned monkey, attaching herself to me. My god, is she touching my hair? She’s touching my hair. What the fuck is happening?
“No, no thank you,” I say to her, twisting my body away.
“Don’t you want to come and play?” she purrs in a seductive tone, running her finger down my arm.
“Not this game I don’t, no.”
“Come on, I can make you very happy.”
Ew.
No thanks.
“That’s super kind of you, really, but I don’t swing that way.”
Riggs chuckles. “Didn’t pick you for a prude.”
“I’m not a prude,” I snap. “I’m just not into being ... My god, are you licking my arm?”
The girl looks up at me, tongue out on my fucking arm, and bats her eyelashes at me. I flick her off and she gives up, getting back onto the floor and crawling over to the other girl, and they immediately start making out.
“You sure you don’t want to join in, Sparkler?” Riggs rasps, and I try very, very hard not to make eye contact with his penis.
It’s right there, standing on alert, looking far larger and thicker than any penis I’ve happened to see in my short sexual history. Are my cheeks flushing? Sweet Jesus make it stop.
“I do not want to join in anything that is going on here, thank you very much. What I’d like to do is go home to my bed and get some rest because some of us have to get up in the morning and work.”
Riggs grabs his dick and starts stroking it.
“Can you please stop doing that? What is wrong with you? My god.”
“You sayin’ you don’t like it?”
I shake my head and spin on my toes, turning and storming out. I can’t be standing in the room with that weird sex show. I go to the very large speaker system that is blasting the music throughout half the fucking town and take hold of the cord, ripping it right out of the wall. The music stops, and the entire room falls silent and turns to me. It’s then, and only then, that I realize I’m in a clubhouse, with a shit load of bikers, and I just turned their music off.
“Ah, hi,” I say, giving a lame wave. “My name is Eve, I live next door, and I run the café I’m sure you’ve all seen. I’m trying to sleep and this, ah, music is driving me crazy. So maybe, you can keep it down.”
“Plug the fuckin’ music back in!” someone roars.
“Plug it in, bitch.”
“Wow,” I scoff. “Let me just say, you’re all very rude.”
“Plug it back in,” a biker says, storming over and snatching the cord out of my hand and shoving it back into the wall.
The music blares once more.
Oh, so they want to play this game, do they?
I scour around until I find something sharp, which happens to be a knife the bartender was using to cut lemons. I walk back over, lift the cord into my hand, and cut clean through it. The music dies down and my anger bubbles up. “Listen here, you bunch of misfits. I don’t care who you are, or what shiny thing you ride, I am trying to get some god damned sleep and you are keeping me up!”