Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Fabulous.
I knew Mitch and Brock because they were cops, they got around. And I worked at a strip joint, and there were always lots of people around and by the law of averages, some of those people did things cops were interested in.
We weren’t best buds, but they were good guys that on occasion had to talk to me because of, say, one of the girls dating someone who was a fuckface or Smithie calling in the police when he suspected someone was dealing from a car parked in the club parking lot.
Though I liked them, they were two more men I had to get out of my house before I could suck Mo’s massive cock and then ride it, this prior to getting to know him better in other ways.
“Hey, Lottie,” Mitch greeted.
“Mitch.”
“Lottie,” Brock said.
“Hey, Brock.”
“Lottie.”
That last was a growl.
I looked to my mound of hunkalicious boyfriend and got his message.
Definitely time to get dressed.
“I’m gonna get dressed. Don’t start without me,” I said to Mitch and Brock, and before they could reply, I twirled and ran up the stairs to get dressed.
Mo joined me in order to put on a shirt.
This was a heavy burden to bear, after waiting so long wondering what was under that shirt, finally having it, liking it a whole lot, and then again having it hidden away from me.
But hopefully this would all be over soon, I could call in sick, we could both get naked again and recommence the celebratory festivities.
I put on cloud-gray joggers with a matching slouchy top that fell off my shoulder, only to have Mo inquire, “You just can’t do it, can you?” with his eyes assessing my outfit.
For goodness sake.
“This outfit isn’t sexy,” I informed him.
“Babe, there was time for me to get on my knees right now, I’d do it to thank God you don’t got a dick. But I do. So that’s my call. And it is.”
I couldn’t argue that.
So I used, “All those men are very taken, Mo.”
His gaze cut from my outfit to my face. “Yeah, so am I. By you. And now I gotta be interviewed by the cops fighting getting hard.”
Oh.
Well then.
I struggled against smiling while I asked, “What do you want me to wear?”
“Until this house is empty but you and me, a shroud.”
Okay.
I couldn’t not smile.
“I don’t have one of those,” I shared through it.
“Let’s just get this done,” he said through a sigh.
I was down with that.
We walked out of the room together, me under an additional burden, this being the burden of Mo’s heavy arm flung over my shoulders.
This burden I didn’t mind bearing.
“You okay?” I asked.
“You’re safe, we’ve fucked twice, I’m good…for now.”
“No, I mean with Tex and the Hot Bunch being here.”
He stopped us halfway down the stairs, stairs that weren’t exactly narrow, but they were with me jammed up next to my mound of hunkalicious boyfriend.
“The Hot Bunch?” he asked.
“The Nightingale Men, plus Eddie and Ren. Haven’t you read the books?”
“Those Rock Chick books?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“No, I haven’t read those books,” he muttered.
That was probably good.
However…
“Don’t you read?” I asked.
“I can read,” he answered.
“No, I mean, enjoy reading, for fun.”
“I’m too busy. If there’s time I can, I listen to them.”
I smiled up at him. “Cool.”
He stared down at me. “Are you in them?”
Hmm…
I decided to start by playing dumb. “In what?”
His arm squeezed my shoulder.
He meant was I in the Rock Chick books.
And he knew I was playing dumb.
To avoid my collarbone snapping, I said, “Kind of.”
“How kind of?”
“The kind of kind of that’s more like a yes.”
He stared down at me.
Then he blew out another sigh and resumed our descent of the stairs.
We joined the men who had decided to hang around (this being all of them) and I saw Eddie had made himself at home and was handing out coffees.
I made a mental note to buy more pods as Mitch and Brock suggested I sit at the dining room table while we chatted.
I took the head and there was a slight kerfuffle when Mo firmly positioned himself standing at my right side, which meant Eddie had abandoned his coffee post and was trying to position himself at my left, where Tex was also positioning himself.
“Who’s givin’ her away, motherfucker?” Tex asked to end the hubbub. He didn’t allow Eddie to answer. “Me. So stand down.”
“She’s gonna make you wear a tux,” Eddie warned, giving in badly.
“So what?” Tex asked.
Everyone in the room looked at Tex in shock.
He wore flannel shirts and jeans.
The end.
Unless he was under duress, this being when he got married, when a Rock Chick got married, and when he went on a cruise with my mother. On that he wore swim trunks for the sole purpose of wearing them, and since he was only slightly smaller than Mo, though older and a lot hairier, he cleared the deck by the pool on the ship because people were terrified of him.