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Hmm…better hurry before she wins me over.
I know my worth.
??
I have the skills you want.
Skills?
My mouth, my fingers, my cock…
Such a filthy mouth.
You love this filthy mouth, especially when it’s between your legs. Now down that coffee because I’m not killing time when I get there. You’re up in my condo and on my bed on all fours.
Bed? So boring. (a GIF with a woman yawning)
That’s it. Game on. Better order a second coffee.
Promises, promises.
Just wait…
That’s the problem. I am.
I shake my head and stare out the window with a smile, wishing Chicago traffic wasn’t so fucking terrible. Just the flirting texts have gotten me hot. I need to get to my place to quench this thirst for a woman I’ve only just met.
I push away the thought that this is trouble, because I’m not going to listen to my brain right now. My dick has turned my brain off and is overriding all attempts to make contact with common sense. All I can focus on is Leigh.
Twelve
Kyleigh
When I arriveat The Nest, there’re a bunch of old receipts posted on the gate with chewed up gum. Names with phone numbers are written in girly scripts, all promising a good time.
My gut twists with the thought of all the competition for Rowan’s attention, but it’s not because I’m invested in this relationship. The sex is just too good to pass up, obviously.
“Who are you?”
I turn at the sound of a woman’s gravelly voice. She’s a smaller woman with red hair that looks as though it’s probably dyed that color. Her gaze flits over me, and she doesn’t look impressed by what she sees.
“I’m just waiting for someone.” I thumb in the direction of the gate into the building.
She sighs. “You’re kind of early, aren’t you? Season hasn’t even started.” She crosses her arms. Although she’s four inches shorter than me and a few decades older, I’m intimidated.
“Oh no…I mean, I’m not…”
She walks closer, her eyes narrowing on me. “Oh…”
“What?”
“Did one of them hurt you? I’m sorry, sweetie, but I’ve owned this bar a long time, and you’re just one broken heart in a long line of them. The last few years, I had hoped that these professional athletes weren’t the classic ‘one girl one night and another the next.’ But this new group.” She stares at the gate and sighs. “Even that single dad on the bottom isn’t looking for a good woman.”
“Yeah, it’s not like that.”
She takes me in again. “Your eyes are red like you’ve been crying. It was Landry, right?”
Jesus, she’s good. I could very well be here for Henry or Tweetie. How did she figure out I’m here for Rowan? “That’s not why I was crying.”
